


Rock Bottom

by animmortalist



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clurphy and Braven are Bros™️, Costume parties, F/F, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, No Echo or Emori hate in MY House, Pining, Ridiculous Antics, Slow Burn, but not a lot, clurphy are the fwb, did i mention pain???, drug addiction (pertains exclusively to abby), everyone is dumb, just a warning, like molasses, rating will be earned in later chapters, some becho and zaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-03-20 08:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 137,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist
Summary: When Bellamy and Echo get engaged, Clarke ends up sobbing in her room, mourning something that she never really had. The last person she expects to comfort her is Murphy, but it turns out the two have a lot more in common than she thought. While she's been pining for Bellamy, he's been realizing his feelings for Raven, who happens to be dating Shaw. In a moment of impulsivity, the two sleep together, and then say 'fuck it'. If they're going to be hurting, they might as well be getting laid at the same time. They figure it'll be easy, simple, and that no one will get hurt. Of course, they're idiots.Nominated for BFWA 2019 Modern WIPNominated for BFWA 2019 Angst WIP





	1. Do You Like Pain?

**Author's Note:**

> hiya lovelies! so, this is my first 100 fic, and it's been swimming around in my head for a long ass time, and i finally decided to do something about it. i originally posted this on my tumblr, but updates will now come through here! the first chapter is Clarke third person POV, but this fic will also have Bellamy, Raven, and Murphy third person POV as well, so please bear with me as i get a handle on all of their voices. kudos and comments feed my soul, but please reserve your hate for somewhere else, as it will be ignored. i hope you enjoy!

It started with Bellamy getting engaged.

 

Clarke had known it was coming, so she was prepared. Still, that didn’t stop her from blubbering like an idiot over someone she had never even dated. Bellamy was her best friend. Her person. Really, the closest thing to family she had since everything with her mom had happened. She just couldn’t believe that it was real. That Bellamy and Echo were getting  _married_.  When he first introduced her to the group, she figured she’d last a month, maybe two. But a month became two and then six and then it was two years. Eventually, Clarke’s friends became Echo’s friends, and even she had to admit that while the other was a little hard to get to know, she was good for Bellamy, and a killer beer pong partner.

 

She was happy for them, she told herself, as Echo flashed the ring around the room and Bellamy swept Clarke into a hug. She had even said the words. To both of them. She deserved a prize.

 

It couldn’t last though, and she knew, eventually, she was gonna break. And shit did she ever. It happened so fast, she didn’t think anyone even noticed. It was Harper’s fault, though, of course, she didn’t do it to hurt Clarke. No one knew how hung up on him she was, and she wanted to keep it that way.

 

But everyone was drinking, beer and wine, mostly, and sitting out on her and Bellamy’s patio. The one that she’d painstakingly spent gardening the spring and summer after she quit her residency. Echo was in his lap. Which wasn’t what upset her. They were an affectionate couple. It was what Harper said, or rather suggested.

 

“So,” she’d said, grinning around her glass of rosé, “is it too early to be thinking about little Bellamys running around?” Everyone laughed. Including Clarke, though it nearly killed her to do it. No one noticed that it was her fake laugh, the one she had reserved for her mother’s dinner parties and galas-when those had still been a thing. Except maybe Murphy. He’d been shooting her this _look_  all night, and been following her around. Hell, she was lucky he hadn’t trailed into her bedroom after her. Lest she not be able to have her cry fest in peace.

 

Echo shook her head, but she was smiling, “we haven’t, really, uh, talked about that yet.” But Bellamy ducked his head. He was blushing. Which was, fuck, which was maybe the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

 

Everyone made this _mmmm_ sound that made Clarke want to burn down her and Bellamy’s row home that they’d moved into after Miller and Jackson had moved in together and Wells had joined Doctors Without Borders. Not long after that little tidbit of information was shared, she made some excuse, she wanted to get another beer, she had a headache and needed some Advil, anything to get her out of there. The minute she closed her bedroom door behind her, she sat down on her bed and just cried.

 

She was doing her best to be quiet. But she couldn’t get that stupid image of a little Bellamy and Echo out of her head. The kid would be absolutely gorgeous obviously. Tall and bronze skin and maybe Bellamy’s freckles and Echo’s piercing eyes. The thought sent her on a new round of sobbing, which made her almost miss the light knock on her door.

 

Fuck. Quickly, she scrambled up from the pillows and wiped at her face. Not that it would do any good. It was probably Bellamy, wondering what was holding her up. Her mind whirled with how she could possibly explain her current state to him.

 

Maybe she’d say something about missing Lexa. They had only broken up three months ago. And he always got that funny look on his face whenever the other woman came up. As much as she would hate herself for it later, it did give her a little thrill. Like maybe he didn’t like her not only because she’d screwed with weekly game night.

 

“Come in,” she said, her voice shaky, and she hated herself for it. Maybe she would be lucky, and it would be Raven or Monty.

 

Who she was not expecting; however, was John Murphy.

 

He took in her appearance and immediately got this sheepish look on his face, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

 

“Bellamy asked me to find you,” he said.

 

She let out a dry laugh, “of course he did.” This sent her spiraling once more, and she was sure it would terrify Murphy, who had just gotten out of a three-year relationship with Emori and now avoided any emotion like the plague and send him running.

 

Instead, she felt the bed dip a little, and his arm came around her shoulders.

 

She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up at him. “The fuck are you doing?” she asked.

 

He smirked. “That’s no way to treat a friend who’s trying to be there for you in your darkest hour.”

 

She had to laugh at that. “I would say this is hardly my darkest hour.”

 

He just raised a brow at that, and she chewed on her lip. A minute passed between them, and she felt so goddamn tired. That was her excuse for letting herself rest her head on his shoulder.

 

“Alright,” she finally said, “you might be a little bit right.”

 

“A little?” he asked.

 

“Don’t push it,” she shot back.

 

She felt him laugh and actually, hell, she couldn’t believe it, snuggled into his side.

 

“Does everyone know?” she asked.

 

“Know what?”

 

She jabbed his shoulder with her pointer finger. Her eyes rose to his, but she quickly looked away. She had never seen John Murphy look at anyone with pity before. And she wasn’t in the mood to be the first.

 

He breathed out a sigh. “I don’t know. I mean, obviously, being the genius that I am,” she scoffed at the word genius, but he continued, “I figured it out. I think Miller might suspect, but it’s Miller, dude’s not gonna say a word. Besides, I didn’t realize how serious it was until you and Lexa broke up. You weren’t even bummed. Just a little weird around Bellamy.”

 

She winced a little at that. It was the truth.

* * *

Coincidentally, Lexa and her broke up a week after Bellamy told her he was proposing, so she was sure her weird behavior could be dismissed by everything happening at once. But the truth was that she and Lexa had broken up  _because_ of Bellamy.

 

And she was gonna admit it too. Even if it burned her life down. Even if it meant that her and Bellamy weren’t friends anymore. But a part of her, a stupid part, she now thought, believed that he’d feel that same. That he’d sweep her into his arms and almost kiss her, but pull away at the last minute, and say, “I’ve gotta talk to Echo first, but after that, I’ll kiss you until our lips don’t work anymore.” And that would be the beginning.

 

But then she’d come down to the kitchen and he was staring at that stupid ring, his brow furrowed in concentration.

 

“What’s wrong?” She had asked. She still hadn’t told anyone about Lexa. She wanted him to be the first.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, like he did whenever he was nervous or embarrassed, “I just…” He looked at her, a little odd for a moment, with an expression she couldn’t quite place, but then he cleared his throat and went back to looking at the ring.

 

“I just wanna do this right,” he said.

 

And she knew she couldn’t tell him, not then, not ever. He wanted Echo. He was _in love_ with Echo. Hell, he was giving her his mother’s ring. You didn’t do that with a girl you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life with.

 

So, she had offered a winning smile, and said, “I bet there’s a fifty-seven percent chance you don’t totally fuck it up.”

 

He laughed at that, and she tried to ignore the way her stomach did a little flip. God, she was pathetic. “That’s generous.”

 

“You know me, I live to give. Come on, it’ll be perfect, cause it’s you.” She was serious all of a sudden and felt herself nearly melt into his brown eyes. She had to look away. 

 

“You’re probably right.”

 

“Oh, I  _know_  I’m right,” she said.

 

Then she bumped her shoulder against his, and said, “I’ll make the coffee, you get the bacon.”                          

* * *

Murphy was rubbing the bare skin of her shoulder. Right where her the strap of her sundress ended. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, and murmured, “It’s gonna be okay Griffin.”

 

Her tears had dried by now, though no doubt her eyes were still red, and she didn’t feel like going back out to the party.

 

He swallowed and looked down at her. “I’m really fucked up about Emori.”

 

Her eyes widened a little at that. She didn’t know he’d wanted to even discuss it. Though the two had been civil at game night and the party, they were still very much awkward around each other. So much so that she suspected Emori’s leaving the party early had little to do with an issue at the kickboxing gym she ran and a lot to do with her and Murphy. 

 

“I know I haven’t…Shit, I know I haven’t shown a lot of anything recently, but…I thought. I thought everything was fine. I mean, things were rough and we had to take a break, but we were getting it back. Getting back to normal. And then she just accuses me of…” he trailed off and he didn’t sound like he was going to continue, but she got the sense that wanted to.

 

“What?” Clarke asked.

 

“I think I might love Raven,” he said.

 

She adjusted her head on his shoulder. “We all love Raven,” she said wryly.

 

“No, I mean. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. And half sober too. Really, forget it. It’s nothing.”

 

She took his hand in hers wove their fingers together. It took her a couple of minutes before she had the guts to ask him. “Do you think you love her like I love Bellamy?” It was the first time she’d said it. To herself. To anyone.

 

Murphy scoffed. “Maybe not as pathetically as you do. I mean, I don’t think my ideal date is pizza and beer and a history documentary,” she grunted in protest, but he ignored her, “but yeah, I guess. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

 

She didn’t know what to do with  _that_  information. It felt all too much, on top of her own feelings. But Raven and Shaw had been together for nearly a year, she had never seen Raven so happy. Maybe Murphy was the only one that understood how she was feeling.

 

“The heart is an idiot,” she told him.

 

He snorted.

 

She moved her head from his shoulder, her eyes searching his. For what, exactly, she had no fucking idea.

 

“Murphy….” she said, but it sounded awfully like a plea.

 

He licked his lips and his eyes drifted to hers. “This is a horrible idea.”

 

“The worst,” she agreed.

 

“I mean, we are in no position to…you know.”

 

She nodded, her eyes still on him.

 

“We would be the biggest idiots in Arkadia.”

 

“Probably the state,” she replied.

 

“Okay, so we won’t.”

 

“Okay,” she said, turning away from him, lifting her head from his shoulder. His arm dropped. 

 

They sat side by side for a minute. She swallowed loudly and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He turned to her and then faced forward. And then did it once more. 

 

After a beat, when she was about to suggest they go back to the party, he said, “fuck it.” 

 

He turned, and she turned and he slid a hand across her jaw, tilting her head up, and then they were kissing. It was not a graceful kiss. It was sloppy. And intense. Probably because they were both starving for something, anything to take away the pain they were feeling. She scrambled into his lap and rubbed her hips against his.

 

He moaned, audibly. Probably loudly. But she didn’t care. Because she wasn’t crying anymore, and she wasn’t thinking about Bellamy fucking Blake.

 

She felt his hands burn into her hips they gripped her so tight, and even though she repeatedly ground down on his growing erection, he wasn’t moving to remove the barriers between them. So, she did. All she had to do was do away with her underwear. Murphy broke the kiss as she did so.

 

He started to shake his head, “Clarke…you were crying about another dude like five minutes ago.”

 

“Exactly,” she breathed out, her hands on his belt. Once she had tossed it to the floor, she kissed him again. He didn’t make any moves to stop her, so she took that as an encouragement and started working on his zipper. “And you were just moping about another woman. Two women, really. So, we’re even. Hell, if anything, you’re one-upping me.” She crashed her lips against his again.

 

When they broke for air, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure?” he asked, a little out of breath. She felt relieved. Her own chest was heaving. She hadn’t been with anyone since Lexa, and though he wouldn't say it, she suspected it was the same with him and Emori. Nodding, she brought him in for another kiss, this one softer, as if to tell him: “it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

 

He didn’t stop their movements after that. It was quick, and kind of dirty, and not at all the kind of sex she usually had. Which was exactly what she needed. She didn’t want to be made love to, she wanted to be fucked.

 

She was still in his lap, and he was still inside her. They were kissing lazily. She giggled a little bit and started kissing his neck. It felt nice. To have someone. Even if it wasn’t the someone she wanted. Clarke was in the middle of placing a hickey that Murphy could easily hide, just below his collar bone, when she heard him say, “oh fuck.”

 

He actually  _threw_  her out of his lap and onto the floor, scrambling to get his briefs and jeans up. She glared at him from where she had landed.

 

“Jackass. What the fuck is your….” And then she noticed the door had been flung open and all of their friends were on the other side, gaping at them.

 

It was Octavia that spoke for all of them.

 

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”


	2. I'm Pretty Sure I Can't Deal with It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the lovely feedback! i am so unbelievably grateful for all of you who liked it, and are willing to go on this wild ride with me. here's the second chapter. this one follows Murphy and Bellamy's thoughts in the light of everything that happened. comments and kudos feed my soul, but please reserve your hate for somewhere else, as it will be ignored.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”  Octavia said, again. As if the first time hadn’t been enough.

 

“You said that,” Clarke said, her voice flat.

 

Murphy didn’t know how she was holding it together. Her composure challenged that of a world leader in wartime. They’d only been, fuck, he couldn’t believe he was using the word  _discovered_ , but he was, moments before. Already she had tucked fly away hairs behind her ears and she was standing now, her back straight, though he did notice how her eyes scanned the floor for a moment before she focused on her friends. It dawned on him. Her fucking panties. Shit.

 

He was still trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Because Raven was seething. Staring at him with murder in her eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. It kind of thrilled him though, and he smirked a little bit, which didn’t do any good because if she was pissed before she was seconds away from throttling him now. He risked a glance at Bellamy, finding it hard to meet anyone else’s eye. His arms were crossed like he was disappointed in Murphy and it could’ve been the intensity of the situation but there was something else too. At Murphy's smirk, his jaw clenched. Murphy took note that he hadn’t yet looked at Clarke. 

 

“It’s not what you think,” he blurted out.

 

That got them talking. All of them. At once. Octavia threw up her hands, spewing curses, and Lincoln gave a worried look in her direction. Harper’s eyebrows shot up. Jasper’s goggles nearly fell off his head. Monty actually fucking put his head in his hands. Meanwhile, Miller just shook his head, causing Jackson to reach for his hand, and Raven looked like she was holding back a snarl, which Shaw had no idea what to do about. He didn’t risk looking at Bellamy or Echo. Turning to Clarke, he was about to beg for help and saw Echo place a hand on Bellamy’s arm out of the corner of his eye. If it had been any other situation, he would’ve scoffed and shook his head. He could barely make out what they were saying, but it was a lot of, ‘fuck’ and ‘love’ and ‘holy shit’ and ‘idiots’ and 'what about game night'. The last one was, of course, from Jasper. 

 

Clarke’s mouth fell open and she shot him a glare so icy it nearly made him shiver.

 

“Murphy doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying,” she said, and he was grateful for that, and started nodding without meaning to, realizing that their friends might’ve believed he meant that he and Clarke were actually _together_.

 

Clarke closed her eyes and squared her shoulders and she jutted out her chin like she always did when she knew she was going to win an argument.

 

“Give us a couple of minutes, and we will explain everything.” He watched as her eyes scanned each of their friends' faces, and saw how she faltered when Bellamy still wouldn’t look at her. “Alright?”

 

It seemed everyone except Octavia had lost the ability to speak once again.

 

“Fine.”

 

The door slammed behind Miller. Fuck, _Miller_ was pissed. They were hopeless.

 

“Where are my underwear?” Her eyes were frantically scanning the floor.

 

“What are we gonna say?” He asked.

 

She just kept looking around the room, like they hadn’t been caught with him inside her by all their friends and the separate people they happened to have fallen for moments before.

 

“They're blue with little daisies on them. Seriously, where the hell are they?” She asked, not even looking at him.

 

“Clarke,” he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him, “what the fuck are we gonna do?”

 

She looked fleetingly at the door. “I had to buy some time, for us, to you know, stop freaking out.”

 

He snorted. Like that was gonna happen.

 

“Ah ha!” She said, finally locating her panties like it was the goddamn Golden Fleece. What? Those Percy Jackson books were good, okay?

 

“Great, now that you’re fully clothed, can we talk about what the hell we’re gonna say to them?” He asked.

 

“Well,” she said, “I might already have a plan. At least, the beginning of a plan.”

 

He scoffed. Of course, she did.

 

She swallowed. “I don’t know if you’ll be down for it.” Chewing on her lip, she avoided his eye.

 

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, a minute ago I was inside you and now you can’t even look at me?”

 

She heaved out a sigh and stared up at him. “There, I’m looking at you. Happy?”

 

“Overjoyed,” he deadpanned, “so, this plan of yours?”

 

“Right…It’s…Well, it only works if…If you wanna keep doing this. And act like this has happened before.” She said gesturing between the two of them as if they were Dance Dance Revolution partners and hadn’t just fucked.

 

It took him a moment to realize she was serious. “Wait, you wanna keep doing this?”

 

She shrugged. “I mean…It was fun, right? And it got my mind off things.”

 

He laughed. “Ah, so you wanna use me for sex, is that it?”

 

She scrunched up her nose. “Maybe a little? Does that make me a terrible person?”

 

“Hell no,” he said, “in fact, I think I like you about three times as much just because of that alone.”

 

“What else contributed to the sudden spike in my popularity?” She raised a brow.

 

“Well, the sex wasn’t all that bad.”

 

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. Maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

 

"Oh, you mean how you were crying over Bellamy getting engaged and I was being an emo little shit about Raven? Let's be honest, Clarke, they're not gonna be satisfied with us saying that it happened for no reason. Besides, like you said. It _was_ fun." He smirked at her.

 

For a moment, he thought she was going to protest, that she would say he was an idiot. That they both were, and that doing this again was probably the stupidest thing they could do. Which, she wouldn't be wrong. 

 

She swallowed, and replied, "alright, we'll go with my plan then."

 

He nodded and raised his fist for her to bump. 

 

Her brows furrowed, and he told her, "come on, the least you can do is not leave me hanging. After all, we might be the first people in history to have a successful friends with benefits relationship. Because there's no way either one of us is developing feelings for the other. Therefore, zero chance of it blowing up, right?"

 

She hesitated but raised her own fist and tapped it lightly against his. "Right." 

 

"You sound so enthused," he said. 

 

She shook her head. "I thought the point of a no-strings-attached relationship was that I _didn't_ have to boost your ego." 

 

"Oh, no. Ego boosting is very important here." 

 

She snorted. "Good to know."

 

"I think this is the start of something beautiful."

 

"Yeah, let's here you say that after we explain it to our friends," she said.

 

He shrugged. "Fine, maybe beautiful isn't the right word. But, I think it'll definitely make their brains melt, and that'll be fun."

 

She held it back for a moment, but she relented and let herself laugh. 

 

* * *

 

Bellamy was staring down a bottle of Jack Daniels that Miller had placed on the coffee table in the living room without a word, along with a couple of glasses. Without looking at any of them, he poured himself two knuckles worth and drained half of it in one sip. He set it down and stared at the amber liquid, trying to will the image of Clarke in Murphy's lap that he feared was now burned into his brain away. Murmuring out something that sounded a lot like, “fucking Murphy,” he drained the rest of the glass and slammed it down, startling Harper in the process.

 

He flashed her an apologetic glance, “sorry,”

 

She gave him a small smile in return, and then rubbed Monty's arm. 

 

He couldn’t look at anyone too long, but he especially couldn’t look at Echo, who he knew was staring at him.

 

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” O breathed out, her eyes lost in space and clutching a pillow. “Did that just really happen? Or are we mass hallucinating again?”

 

Monty chose this moment to defend his brownies. “It was one bad batch, okay? Have I ever made you hallucinate before that? Or since then?”

 

“Murphy…And Clarke,” O continued to speak, as if she didn’t hear Monty, “Clarke…And Murphy. Sex. I don’t…I mean,” she looked around at their friends, catching Bellamy’s eye just as he was about to go back to interrogating the coffee table, “did any of you know?”

 

No one spoke up. Though he felt their eyes on him, more like boring into him. Because he always had the answers, right? Well, he certainly didn't have an answer for this. After a moment, he spat out, “I didn’t know they were together, alright, so stop looking at me like I did.” He didn’t mean to snap, really, it’s just that this was his fucking ‘get-together with the friends and celebrate getting engaged’ party and now it had turned into ‘Clarke and Murphy might be in love’ discovery.

 

“We don’t even know if this…A thing,” Harper said, ever the voice of reason, of remaining calm, “maybe this is the first time.”

 

He didn’t know which would be worse. Honestly, any of the choices made him want to throw up. Either Murphy and Clarke were something, or they were just starting to be something. He was really hoping for the mass hallucination.

 

"It looked like a thing though, didn't it?" Jackson asked.

 

Miller twisted his lips into a grimace. "Maybe. But it's not like the two of them are the most well-adjusted people on the planet. Harper might be right."

 

He knew they were all practically taking turns staring at him, which fair, okay, he knew he used to be a goner when it came to Clarke, but did they really have to be so obvious in front of Echo? Though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. What he didn’t expect was Raven’s rage, he could sense it coming off her in waves. The set of her jaw, the flashes between anger and something else in her eyes.

 

“I mean, what the fuck?” Raven said. She stood from where she had been slouching in one of the chairs Clarke’s mother had delivered when they were still talking to her. “Seriously? Is no one else pissed as hell about this bullshit as I am?” She asked. No one replied. They all expected him to be pissed about this because, well, because reasons okay, but they weren’t expecting it from her. When no one seemed willing to give her the answer she wanted, she took a breath and seemed to calm down a bit. 

 

“Whatever. It’s not like I give a shit which one of you is making this group more incestuous than it already is,” she said, and flopped back into the chair, but he could tell that she was still stewing. Shaw glanced over at her, and opened his mouth to comment, but she snipped at him, "not now."

 

In a moment of weakness, he let himself look at Echo. Her head was tilted to the side, and her eyes were sympathetic. She thought he was upset because the party'd been ruined or that the group dynamic was now at stake. Which he supposed was a part of it. They were the closest thing he had to family, besides O, really. And things were only just starting to get back to normal between the siblings. He shrugged and went back to staring down the table. 

 

He wasn’t an idiot, okay, even though his friends had secretly called him one for never making a move on Clarke the years before he got together with Echo. They’d all met in college. Him and Miller grad students, Jackson in med school, and the rest in various years of undergrad. Hell, he’d met Clarke when she was _eighteen,_ moving into the same dorm as O. He was allowed to hesitate about asking her out. And then…the timing had just never worked. They were never single at the same time, or they were, but things were kinda fucked up for one of them or both of them, or hell, between them.

 

So, it just never happened, and he had resigned himself to quietly loving Clarke Griffin for the rest of his life. But that didn’t mean he wanted to spend his life alone. And Echo was fun and sexy and laughed at his lame jokes. If he was being honest, she was also about as far from Clarke as he could get. There had been one or two instances, on the Halloween Gina broke up with him, or Clarke’s birthday last year, when he thought…But that didn’t matter now, he told himself. Echo was great for him, and he felt that he was pretty good for her too.

 

He felt the temperature in the room actually shift when the two of them walked in. They weren’t holding hands, which he, guiltily, felt amazing about. If they were actually a couple, and they were telling their friends, they would be holding hands. Not that he had imagined such a situation that involved him telling all of his friends that he was secretly dating one of them before, of course. 

 

“What’s up, motherfuckers?” Murphy asked, spreading his arms wide. 

 

Clarke glared at him and rolled her eyes, which filled Bellamy with glee. Maybe it had been a one-time thing. A spur of the moment mistake that they were going to explain why and how it happened and then proceed to never mention again. That had to be it, because any other alternative just didn't make sense. 

 

But any hope of that was dashed when Murphy draped an arm over Clarke’s shoulders.

 

She looked over at him and, he knew it was petty, okay, but he pointedly kept glaring at Murphy. It was difficult to glare at him without meeting her pleading eyes, but he managed. Eventually, she gave up, and decided to speak. 

 

“So, obviously, you all saw Murphy and I, um, you know.”

 

“Oh, did we ever,” Jasper said, grinning. O lobbed the pillow she'd been holding at him, and Lincoln placed a hand on her shoulder. 

 

“Well, we just wanted to explain what that was.”

 

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” Raven narrowed her eyes at the two of them and Clarke looked fleetingly at Murphy. He didn’t like her looking at him like he was gonna protect her or something. Obviously, they’d talked. But he wondered just how much talking they’d done recently.

 

Murphy let his arm drop from Clarke’s shoulders, and, fuck, stepped in front of her. “Here’s the deal assholes. Me and Clarke?” He looked back at her, as if to get permission for what he was about to say, and she gave him a little nod. “We’re screwing. No, we are not dating, nor do we currently have any plans to. This is not romance or whatever the hell you wanna call it. What we have…Can’t be defined.” Clarke snorted at that, which, under any other circumstances, Bellamy would’ve smiled at, probably made a joke at how dramatic Murphy was being. “We did not invite you to come barging into Clarke’s room and witness the amazingness that is our sex life, but, because you all have zero knowledge of the definition of a closed door, you have, and Clarke tells me we have to tell you and ask you to please be cool with it or she’ll stop sucking my dick.” At that, Clarke shoved him, hard, but he just grinned. Which made Bellamy want to punch a wall.

 

She didn’t correct him, didn’t stop him from telling them all of this, which confirmed that this was, indeed, happening. That Clarke Griffin and John Murphy were having sex. That one Clarke Griffin had given one John Murphy a blow job. It was wrong, on so many levels, but that was really the part that was fucking with his head. He was a horrible person and a horrible friend and so, maybe on one occasion (one, okay), he had imagined such a situation between Clarke and himself while a little bit tipsy. Now knowing that not only would it never happen for him was one thing, but that it happened for Murphy, and probably would in the future, made him go numb.

 

Before any of them could say a word, O nodded and seemed to decide something. She shrugged, and said, “makes sense. Murphy’s been checking out your tits for a month, Clarke.”

 

She looked relieved at that, if only slightly. He was trying to find the right words. The right thing to say at the moment, to quell Clarke’s worries, to make everyone feel at ease. But he just…Couldn’t.

 

“It’s alright Clarke, we’ll only make fun of you for sleeping with Murphy like three times a day,” Monty said, grinning a little.

 

Murphy scowled at that, but Clarke gave him a pointed look and he let up. Something boiled in his stomach at that. Not about the exact exchange, but the softness there. The ease of it.

 

Her eyes found his when he wasn’t paying attention to the fact that he had been avoiding looking at her the whole time. He realized it didn’t matter what O said or Monty or anyone in that room. It wasn’t gonna be okay for her until he said it was. The thought filled him with, not happiness, but a sick kind of pleasure.

 

He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally found the words. Maybe not the right words. But they were words, so, it was a win. “I guess you guys’ll do whatever the hell you want regardless of what any of us say, so, it’s cool.”

 

Clarke nodded and gave him a small smile, “as much as Murphy’s little speech may have you thinking otherwise, this really isn’t going to change anything between the group,” Bellamy could hardly believe _that_ to be the truth, “I mean, that’s the last thing we’d want.” She looked at everyone as she spoke, “honestly, it’s kind of a relief, to tell you all.”

 

Murphy scratched the back of his head, and added, “though it was kind of hot sneaking around."

 

Clarke scoffed, “yeah, well, don’t expect me to put in more effort to compensate.”

 

“We all now know how much effort you put in Clarke,” Jasper said, waggling his eyebrows.

 

Miller knocked him upside the head, and muttered something that sounded awful like, “fucking kids these days”.

 

“Echo,” Clarke said, turning to the other woman, “and Bellamy,” was it just his imagination or did her voice catch a little when she said his name? “we hate that we might’ve ruined your party and just...We’re sorry.” Definitely his imagination.

 

Echo smirked. “Relax, Clarke. Now, if this had been the actual wedding, I would’ve had to kill you, but…Eh, what’s this group without a dash of dramatics.” Clarke laughed, her eyebrows lifting ever so slightly-like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

 

* * *

 

It was decided that the house was too “tainted” (Raven’s word, not his) by the previous events and that they would celebrate, what at this point he didn’t know, by going to the neighborhood pool. The one they hardly ever went to because it was always packed with teenagers, screaming kids and their tottering parents. But this time it didn’t seem so crowded. They were all pushing each other in and dunking each other under water. Jasper inexplicably still had his goggles on his forehead.

 

Clarke and Raven were on lounge chairs having a conversation he knew better than to interrupt. Of course, that didn’t mean everyone got that. Murphy was dripping wet from the pool and shook out his hair right over Raven, who let out a string of curses that made O blush. She started to get up, presumably to make him regret ever being born, but he had picked up Clarke and slung her over his shoulder, making a dash for the pool.

 

She was laughing. Her real laugh. Which wasn’t all that pretty, even. She kind of snorted sometimes when she really got going, but the sun was reflecting off of her hair and her eyes were shining and she squealing, “Murphy, NO!” But she wasn’t really protesting it. Murphy jumped in. 

 

When they didn't come up, Jasper said, “I wonder if we’ll ever see them again,” to no one in particular.

 

“Ah, young lust,” Monty commented.

 

Eventually, they did come up, and when they did, she dunked his head underwater, and then scrambled onto his shoulders.

 

“Alright, who wants to challenge the cockroaches to a game of Chicken?” She asked. Like everything was how it was the day before.

 

Harper and Monty immediately got on that, and it occurred to Bellamy that to anyone else at the pool Clarke and Murphy might've looked like a real couple. The thought made his brow furrow, and his chest got all tight. It didn’t go unnoticed by Raven, who caught his eye and rolled her own from her chair.

 

He felt someone nudge his shoulder and looked over at Echo, who smiled gently. “You sure you’re okay? I mean, I get it. She’s your best friend. And, as much as you don’t admit it, he’s your friend too. It could get messy.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” he said.

 

He slung an arm around Echo and brought her close, just as Harper toppled over and Clarke whooped in triumph.

 

“Bellamy, please tell me you weren’t too busy making googly eyes to witness my incredible skills?”

 

“Nah, I saw, princess,” he replied, and her whole face lit up.

 

But he didn’t have time to think about that because Octavia was already on Lincoln’s shoulders and she shouted, “Bell, if you cheer when I lose I’m disinviting myself from the wedding.” Because no one beat Clarke Griffin at Chicken.

 

Echo laughed, and leaned into him, and… Fuck, he thought, what the hell have I done? He was self-aware enough to admit that he was still a little bit in love with Clarke, and he knew, _he knew_ he had to love Echo. But when Octavia did fall into the water, Murphy adjusted his grip so his hands were higher up on Clarke's thighs, and she looked over and grinned at him again, well, it wasn't hard to figure it out: he was fucked. 

 


	3. The Kids are Alright, Aren't They?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are at chapter three! i love all of your comments, and am so grateful for any kind of feedback you've provided so far! we finally get some Raven POV and i think writing her was the most challenging for me, but I'm getting a handle on it. also, we get Bellamy being Not Cool with the whole situation, which was really fun to write. as always, comments and kudos feed my soul, but please reserve your hate for somewhere else, as it will be ignored.

Raven figured things would be different after finding out about Murphy and Clarke. Despite Clarke’s reassurances that nothing was going to change, she knew that was bullshit. Not only because of the face Bellamy made whenever the two were so much in spitting distance of one another, but also because her friends were so goddamn obvious about worrying about him.

 

It was sweet, really, that Harper cared so much to make her special chicken noodle soup from scratch and Monty insisted on playing an hour of video games, just the two of them, hell even Miller stopped by and offered to watch a history documentary with him. Raven knew all of this through Bellamy, who was getting sick of everyone acting like he was going to fracture into a million pieces. She thought this was pretty fair of him, but held back that, in part, she had produced a newly redesigned vintage radio for that very reason.

 

Echo wasn’t stupid, she was going to figure out why everyone, as freaked out as they were by the latest development between the resident cockroaches of the group, had decided to put all those feelings aside in favor of being there for their friend. Whatever. At least she had passed it on as an engagement gift. 

 

“Hell, I don’t know how to tell them to just quit it already without sounding like a massive dick,” he said, swigging back his beer.

 

They were all at Grounders, a hole-in-the-wall that was close to almost all of their places that tolerated Clarke’s yelling whenever she won a game of darts (which was always), Jasper’s habit of getting belligerent off of only three and a half beers, and had enough of a mix between the cheap stuff to not break Octavia’s bank, but a fair amount of the craft selection that Miller drank exclusively.

 

She played with the label on her own bottle. “I don’t know that you can, but it’ll dissipate eventually. I mean, I know we all figured this was The End,” she held up a hand to silence his protest, “but they haven’t so much as kissed each other on the cheek in front of us yet. Once everyone sees that it’s no big deal, they’ll cool it.”

 

She was telling herself that as much as she was him, but that was something she struggled to even admit to herself, let alone anyone else. It was the first outing as a whole group since The Event. That’s what Raven was calling it in her head. No, she didn’t need to be told how stupid it sounded. But she needed to give it some kind of monstrous name to organize the mess of feelings she had about the situation.

 

It shouldn’t have bothered her. In fact, she prided herself on being resolutely unbothered by the stupid shit her friends got themselves into. The Raven that she thought she was would’ve teased Clarke along with everyone else, glared at Murphy, but not with actual mal, and tried to be there for Bellamy with much more subtlety than any of her other friends could ever attempt.

 

So why was she so fucking pissed off? At Clarke. At Murphy. Hell, if he didn’t look so pathetic when she snapped at him, she would’ve been pissed at Bellamy. For what? She had asked herself that more than once over the course of the last couple of days to no avail. It was being noted by her friends too. She was harsher with Murphy than she’d been in years, and to Clarke, she was cold for the first time since everything with Finn. The last thing she wanted was for them to think she had a thing for one of them, and needed to be coddled. 

 

Not really paying attention to what she was doing, she ripped the whole label off the bottle and crumbled up the paper. Because he was him, Bellamy took special notice of this, like he was cracking some kind of code. 

 

“How’re you feeling about the whole thing?” He asked.

 

“It’s not my sex life,” she replied, a little flat, “not really any of my business.”

 

“I know,” he said, treading carefully, “it’s just that…You and Murphy have become closer these past couple of years, and I don’t know…It’s okay if you're pissed he didn’t tell you.”

 

It was true, the two of them had been hanging out more and more than she ever thought they would, especially after the car accident that had resulted in Raven’s injured leg. And yeah, it was Murphy’s fault, alright, but she’d forgiven him for that. Mostly. But he was a damn good chef and they’d become obsessed over _Sons of Anarchy_  together, made a weekly thing of it so they could drag out the seasons on Netflix as long as possible. Once they finished that, they started in on _Peaky Blinders_. That didn’t mean they were besties though, she reminded herself, and it didn’t mean he was obligated to tell her if he was getting some. 

 

“You pissed she didn’t tell you?” She asked, avoiding his question.

 

He raised his brows, like the disappointed dad he was, and sighed. “I don’t know. I used to think me and Clarke told each other everything.”

 

She snorted, which made him furrow his brow. “Except one thing,” she said, teasing, if only a little.

 

“Let’s not go there,” he said, shifting so he was leaning back in the booth. She could tell that even if he didn’t want them to, his eyes drifted to Clarke, who was currently playing a very loud game of pool against Miller.

 

“Fine. Then don’t ask me if I’m pissed at Murphy,” she said.

 

He smirked. “But you _are_ pissed at Murphy.”

 

She shrugged. “It’ll blow over.”

 

“The being pissed part? Or the they’re sleeping together part?” And he really wanted to know, she could tell.

 

“Both. Look, casual sex is fun and all, but sooner or later they’ll get bored or find other people they want to date or realize that it isn’t worth screwing with their friendship, and they’ll stop. And then you and I won’t even have a reason to be pissed.” Her voice sounded so sure, but she didn’t buy it.

 

He visibly relaxed at her words though, so they must’ve resonated with him in a way they didn’t with her.

 

“You’re right,” he said.

 

“Aren’t I always?” She asked, grinning. “Come on, Clarke’s on a winning streak and I fear the deadly consequences if someone doesn’t knock her down a peg before the next round.”

 

He shook his head at first, but she managed to get him to play a game against Clarke and Monty, and yeah, it felt good when they kicked her ass.

* * *

The thing about sex with Murphy was that there were no expectations. It reminded Clarke of the short amount of time she’d spent hooking up with Niylah in college during her semester abroad, and Anya in high school. She barely even had to think about it. He would text her, or she would text him, and they’d meet up, and it happened.

 

Everyone had bought the story they’d sold too, which was that her and Murphy had started hooking up about a month ago and had decided to keep it quiet because their friends were all nosy assholes, but then everyone had ‘found out’ right after they decided it was probably time to tell them. She didn’t want anyone to know that the first time had been because Bellamy got engaged, and Murphy didn’t want anyone to suspect he’d spent the time after Emori moping over Raven.

 

The only downside really, was that things were now definitely awkward between her and Bellamy. She knew they would be, had accepted that as a price to pay for maybe (hopefully) finding a way to get him out of her system, but she hadn’t realized just how much it would actually hurt.

 

They hadn’t had a real conversation since it happened, and he hadn’t even begged her to watch the newest John Adams miniseries on Amazon yet. Granted, she knew she could ask to do something with him, and he’d probably happily agree, but she felt like he had to make the first move. Even though she really hadn’t done anything wrong, she felt like she had.

 

She was starting to type out a pathetic plea in the form of asking him if he wanted to get Pho and finally watch _Nanette_ on Netflix when Bellamy texted and told her to try and eat a vegetable or two for dinner, but that she was on her own. He and Echo were still at her parent’s place for lunch that had turned into ‘discussing the wedding’. Normally, she would’ve gotten into her sweats and put on a reality television show Bellamy didn’t approve of, but she realized that she didn’t have to do that, she could do Murphy instead.

 

He replied about five minutes after she sent a tentative, carefully worded text.

 

**Murphy:** You need to work on your game Griffin, but sure. Come on over ;)

 

She rolled her eyes, but put on a lacy bra (but stayed in her button-down and jeans-it was still just Murphy, after all) and went over, got laid, and figured she might even beat Bellamy home, which was good. It would leave her enough time to change out of Murphy's shirt and into one of her own. He'd ripped half the buttons on hers, getting impatient as usual, which she bitched about because, "those shits are expensive, you ass," but when she'd finished getting her jeans on he'd tossed her an AC/DC tour shirt. 

 

"I want that back, by the way," he'd said.

 

She scoffed. "Don't worry. _Highway to Hell_ is your anthem, not mine."

 

She didn’t beat Bellamy back to the house though, and when she walked through the door, he was watching some corny romantic comedy on Netflix they’d already seen together.

 

He didn’t look up when she walked in. That was a development she was still getting used to. He had barely looked at her at all in the last week and a half. Which not only made things awkward at game night, but it was kind of pissing her off. Out of pride, she decided to not to give him any kind of reaction.

 

“How were Echo’s parents?” She asked. “They already make you sign away your soul as part of the prenup?”

 

His jaw ticked, and her stomach sank. A fight was coming on, she knew it. Finally, he glanced over at her, his eyes scanning hers, then dropping to her choice in attire, and he sighed and lowered the volume on the tv.

 

“No soul signing yet. But I have to produce ten cows and an acre of land in the next couple of weeks,” he replied.

 

She laughed, though it wasn’t that funny, and then became very interested in her shoes. When she looked up, he was staring her down. She worried her bottom lip, before letting out a huff.

 

“Sorry I broke curfew,” she said, trying to ease the tension between them.

 

He smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s alright. I’ll only make you do the dishes for the next two weeks instead of the three I had planned.”

 

“Thanks,” she snarked back, but it was still off between them, the chemistry not quite right. So, she went for it. “I know you said it was cool, but you’re not acting like it is. And I hate the thought that you’re pissed at me or something.”

 

She watched him carefully for a reaction, so she could read his face before he replied. His expression made her chest hurt.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

 

“How about: Congrats on the sex? Maybe on a cake.” Making a lame joke alluding to an SNL skit wasn’t her finest move, in hindsight.

 

He frowned, and she backtracked. “Or you know, you could just respect that I’m single and he’s single and we’re two people giving consent and we’re all adults?”

 

She should’ve expected this, really, but it was a little surprising, the fact that he was acting so put out by _her_ sex life.

 

“Yeah, I know all that,” he said, “it’s, you know…”

 

“No,” she shook her head a little, “I don’t know.”

 

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” he continued, “what I mean is, I don’t know if you two really understand the repercussions of this, or what it could do to…The group.”

 

“The group," she repeated, “I didn’t realize you felt that way. Since, you know, you said it was cool.”

 

He nodded. “I know, and I probably shouldn’t have.”

 

“Um, well, I don’t really know what to tell you. I’m not going to stop sleeping with him just because you think I haven’t thought about the _repercussions_. I’ve thought about them, alright. Besides, it’s, well, it’s really none of your business.” She felt like a little kid to do it, but nonetheless, crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

He actually scoffed at that. “None of my business? Seriously. I’m friends with both of you. And it’s not like we needed more people hooking up amongst our friends.”

 

At once, she felt defensive and judged and also the sinking feeling that he was right.

 

She mustered up, “and friends support one another, even if they don’t agree with who they're sleeping with or dating or whatever.”

 

Looking down, he shot back, “not if they think they’re making a huge mistake.”

 

Clarke felt not pain, but anger boil in the pit of her stomach. “Why? Because I’m having casual sex? You didn’t seem to care when it was Niylah.” Admittedly, she and Bellamy were not technically on speaking terms when she’d been hooking up with her, but the point stood.

 

“That was different,” was all he said.

 

She took a slow, even breath, “why does it matter that it’s me and Murphy? I don’t remember you giving Miller this talk when he and Jackson started sleeping together.”

 

“They started dating like right after,” he argued.

 

“After two months,” she seethed.

 

His eyebrows shot up, “oh, so you’re telling me you and Murphy are gonna start dating?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I’m just saying, people in this group have had casual sex before. I mean, look at you and Raven.” It was a low blow, bringing up that particular incident, but she no longer cared.

 

“We were barely even tolerating each other’s presence back then.”

 

“What is so wrong about it? Really, I wanna know,” she was gesturing with her hands now, and his jaw seemed to be permanently clenched. She couldn’t remember the last time they'd disagreed like this.

 

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, she ranted on, “I mean, I would get it if we were all over each other, but I think the most contact I’ve had with him in front of you all week has been a high five.”

 

“Please, the contact thing has nothing to do with it. It’s the idea of it, and the fact that, sorry, you and Murphy are in no way mature enough to handle this kind of…Relationship.”

 

That did make her heart falter a little bit. Was she pathetic enough that she’d been hoping he was relieved she and Murphy hadn’t been very affectionate in front of everyone? Yes, she was, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t upset with her for sleeping with Murphy out of jealousy, he was upset with her because he thought she was being irresponsible.

 

She laughed dryly. “Oh, because you were so mature when you were screwing Roma? I don’t remember me giving you some bullshit lecture about protecting the friend group when you and her went at it practically in front of everyone for three months and then it blew up and we basically never saw her again.”

 

“Exactly,” he said, “it blew up, and I fucked up, alright. I shouldn’t have been sleeping with a friend. Because whether you want it to or not, it brings everyone else into it.”

 

"That's their problem, then," she replied. 

 

"Clarke," he swallowed, "I want what's best for everyone here."

 

She shook her head. "No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't be saying any of this."

 

"What?" He asked. "You really think this is the best thing for you? You think the best way to get over Lexa is to sleep with Murphy?"

 

Shrugging, she avoided looking at him. "It happens to be working just fine for me."

 

Her eyes drifted over to his, even though she didn't want them to, and he looked like she had just told him she was from Mars. 

 

"What do you think about how everyone's feeling about this? And don't say you don't care, cause I know you do."

 

"They'll relax when they figure out nothing's changed," she said. 

 

"You really think that? Do you really think Jasper or O are just gonna be cool with it? That Raven's gonna stop being pissed at you two?"

 

"Like I said, it's none of their business," she shot back, "the sooner they realize that, the better."

 

She was still pissed, but she felt exhausted by fighting with him, even though it’d only been a few minutes. She wanted, no, needed it to be over, needed to get to the part where they awkwardly apologize and hugged and agreed to get over themselves.

 

"Really? From this group of people? I doubt it." He got up from the couch and ran a hand over his face. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and she wasn't used to the light scruff that had grown in. 

 

Deciding that if she didn't make a peace offering soon, the two of them were going to go to bed pissed at each other, she tentatively said, “maybe, _maybe,_ you have a point. But that’s only because our friends don’t know how to even spell privacy, let alone know the definition of it.” Her voice was expressing far too much emotion for her liking, and she tried to get a handle on it.

 

The right side of his mouth turned up at that, just a little though, as if he didn’t want to, but couldn’t help it. He looked down at his hands, which were knotted together, and schooled his expression into the disappointed, judgmental one he’d had before. He lifted his eyes, and said, “look, I know you think this won’t hurt anyone, but it will.”

 

She laughed a little, she couldn’t help it. “Oh yeah, like Murphy and I are gonna hurt each other?” Besides, she thought, there was nothing that could possibly hurt her more than Bellamy being in love with someone else, and that was already a part of her daily life. The idea was so ridiculous to her, she couldn’t help but go on, “because our emotions are all over the place when we’re around each other? That isn’t really our style.”

 

He didn’t seem convinced though, so she stopped the joking, and turned serious. “I know you’re worried. But you have no right to judge me or him or whatever is happening between us. You’re my friend. If you can’t agree with my choice, then can you at least respect it?” She pleaded with her eyes, if that didn’t work, she didn’t know what would.

 

He relented though, and nodded, “I think I can manage that,” he said, “and I do want you to know, I never meant to judge you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I really am just trying to look out for you, but if this is really what you want then, okay. I’ll get over it,” he tilted his head, “eventually.”

 

She brightened at that, feeling an onslaught of relief and guilt and gratitude that her best friend wasn’t angry with her anymore. Or at least, as angry. “I’m sorry too,” she said, looking away, “I shouldn’t have brought up Roma or Raven, and…I don’t know. I guess I’m sorry for blowing up at you.”

 

Bellamy nodded and actually gave her a little smile. It wasn’t everything, but it was something. “Thanks. I’ll remember that the next time you blow up at me, promise.”

 

She shook her head and grinned. He wanted to say more, she could tell, but she was tired and had to be at the gallery early the next morning, and so gave him an out, “I know you’ve got work tomorrow, and I’d hate for the kids to have their favorite teacher passing out on them because of me, so...”

 

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat, “those kids are ruthless, they’d definitely draw on me, too.”

 

The fondness he had for his students made her stomach flutter, which, not the time, Griffin, she chastised herself. They went to their separate rooms. Not parting with a hug, like the masochistic part of her craved, but an awkward little wave.

 

"Night, Bellamy."

 

"Goodnight, Clarke."

* * *

 When the end of the world arrived, it was because of Harper.

 

Bellamy knew she only meant to put Clarke at ease, who, even after their fight and he made her pancakes the next morning to make up for being a dick, was still on edge. 

 

Nearly two weeks had passed since they'd found Clarke and Murphy together. They were at their booth in Grounders, minus Jackson and Miller, who were visiting Miller's dad, and Shaw, who had an early morning. Lincoln and Raven were trying to teach O how to not take out someone's eye at darts, and Jasper was failing to hit on the new bartender with sleeve tattoos. Emori and Echo were standing nearby, encouraging him to keep trying. They were waiting on Murphy, as usual. Clarke brought over her and Bellamy's order, and she slid in next to him. 

 

Harper stared at her for a moment, before she asked, "Clarke, why do you and Murphy, you know, never touch in front of us?"

 

He swallowed and turned to face her. Was it wrong that he hadn't even thought about it? Other than to be relieved of course, that they hadn't. Still, he hadn't considered that it was odd or that any of their friends would've thought it was either. 

 

"Uh, I don't know. Why do you ask?" Her back had straightened, and he could feel that her leg had started giggling under the table. 

 

"It's just that," Harper looked at Monty for a moment before continuing, "you know you could, right? If you wanted to, that is. I don't want you to feel like you have to hold back. I mean, god knows the rest of us never let up on the affection or talking about our sex lives. I know this is a little weird since it's you and Murphy, but we can take it, really," she offered a soft smile, "and we would never want you to feel uncomfortable around us, we are all friends, after all." 

 

Clarke shifted in her seat. "Thanks, Harper, really, but I just don't think it's like that." _Thank God for that_ , he mused. 

 

She looked at him for a moment, but before he could really gauge how she was feeling, she looked away. Shit, he thought, his ease disappearing. Maybe it was _his fault_ that Clarke and Murphy never did anything whenever someone else was around. Maybe his pancakes hadn't done as much as he thought they had to soothe her worries. 

 

"What're we talking about?" Jasper asked, a little more solemn than he'd been before he approached the bar. "Please, tell me it's anything other than how hard I struck out."

 

"You didn't strike out that bad," Echo said, and Emori offered what he thought was supposed to be a supportive smile. 

 

"Murphy and Clarke," Monty grumbled. 

 

At that, Emori waved a hand, "by all means continue, please."

 

Jasper pointed at Clarke. "I actually have a theory about this."

 

Clarke raised a brow. "Do tell."

 

"You guys are faking it."

 

At that, she paled a little, but she just asked, "oh, yeah? And what makes you think that?"

 

"You never even kiss. You really expect us to think you're going to Pound Town together?" Bellamy winced at that and hoped no one noticed. 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes and mumbled, "I really don't get what the big deal of me and Murphy not being all over each other in front of you guys is," she looked around at them, "I thought you'd be relieved."

 

"Oh, we are," Monty replied, "but...Even I have to admit that it's a little weird."

 

She turned to Bellamy, "do you think it's weird?"

 

He nearly choked on his beer. "I, uh," he met Monty's eye, who shook his head so slightly he almost missed it, "maybe a little? I mean, you two should do...Whatever you wanna do. Like Harper said, don't hold back," she frowned, so he added, "really, it's no big deal. You two are...Whatever the hell you are, but that doesn't mean you have to hide it. I mean, you told us all so you didn't have to lie to us anymore, so you know, stop acting like you are." Monty kicked him under the table. 

 

Harper's eyebrows knit together as if she hadn't just been arguing the same exact thing. 

 

"Huh," was all Clarke said in response. 

 

"Guess who is the best chef in the universe?" Murphy said in a sing-song voice that was more of a shout from the front door. The new bartender shot him a dirty look but still gave him the beer he ordered. 

 

He leaned against the side of the booth he and Clarke were sitting in, and smirked at her, "made your favorite dessert today so perfect I deserve an award."

 

Clarke groaned, "don't you know better than to mention tiramisu in my presence when I don't have immediate access to it?"

 

He shrugged. "I live to screw with you, Griffin."

 

She rolled her eyes and then bit her lip. Bellamy was about to suggest they all go to the restaurant where Murphy worked as a sous chef sometime next week so Clarke could see for herself just how good the dessert was there. But before he could, she had grabbed Murphy by the shirt and dragged him into a kiss. 

 

It didn't even last very long, but for a second, he thought he was going to pass out. He was close enough that he could see she was smirking around his lips, and when she pulled back, she said, "nope. You live to  _screw me._ "

 

Murphy was grinning, looking down at her in confusion and maybe a little bit of awe. 

 

From across the bar, O wolf whistled. She swatted at Raven, "I told you they'd be all over each other eventually, didn't I?"

 

Raven narrowed her eyes and flicked them up and down. Without a word, she went back to shooting darts with Lincoln, who just looked vaguely uncomfortable. 

 

Clarke was blushing slightly as she leaned back in her seat. Bellamy was blinking rapidly and trying to will himself not to look as bad as he felt. Murphy looked over Clarke's head at him, and yeah, he could tell it hadn't worked. He drained his beer and got up without looking at anyone. 

 

"Next rounds on me," he grumbled. 

 

He placed an order for another round and let out a slow breath. He heard someone approach and knew it was Clarke who had followed him without even having to look. She leaned against the bartop, though it was no doubt filthy. He was about to warn her of all the potential diseases that were probably on that thing, when she said, "I hope that wasn't too gross or weird," she went on, "I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't said it was okay."

 

She wasn't looking at him, which was probably for the best because he was about one second away from spontaneously combusting after the kiss plus _that admission_. The fact that he was the reason for Clarke deciding she could kiss Murphy in front of everyone was on his top ten list of terrible things he had ever experienced. And he'd been through a lot of shit. 

 

"Oh, well, you sure did it," was all he could muster. 

 

"Yep," she said, popping the 'p'. 

 

He nudged her shoulder with his arm. "It'll be alright, Clarke. I promise." 

 

She looked up at him, and her lips twitched up, just a little. "Yeah," she said as if she were trying to reassure herself. After a moment, she looked behind her and said, "well, Murphy and I are actually gonna split, if that's alright?"

 

"You don't need my permission, Clarke. We fully established that the other night."

 

"I know, I know," she waved a hand, "it still feels good to have your support though," and she gave him a real smile. 

 

"Yo, my bed awaits!" Murphy called over from the booth. 

 

Her cheeks turned pink and she fired a glare in his direction. "Go have fun in it without me, then."

 

Murphy pouted, and she shook her head, but she was laughing. "See you," she told him and squeezed his arm, which shouldn't have had nearly as much impact on him as it did. 

 

He nodded. "Yeah, see you back at home."

 

The two of them walked out together, and he grabbed their drinks and went back over to the booth.

 

It didn't occur to Bellamy until he and Echo were getting ready for bed that for the first time since she and Murphy told him the truth, Clarke hadn't mentioned coming home that night. 


	4. (But) She's Not Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so thrilled with the response i've received so far. it is truly amazing and i am so thankful for all of you and your lovely feedback! comments and kudos feed my soul, but hate will be ignored. thanks to all of you lovelies, i haven't received any yet, which really makes my day, but i figured i'd include it just in case! this chapter is heavily focused on bellamy and clarke's feelings since raven's still riding that denial train, but not to worry, there's also some murven moments, too. thank you for sticking with me and i hope you enjoy!

Waking up with Clarke Griffin on a weekend was not an enjoyable experience. Murphy had grown used to their weekday routine, but in the month they'd been doing it, they'd never actually slept at each other's places on a Friday or Saturday night before. He supposed it was partly his fault because he forgot that he'd accidentally left his alarm on for six-thirty when he didn't even have to be at the restaurant that day. When it had shaken them both from sleep, she repeatedly beat him with a pillow until he managed to shut it off. But other than that, he was an innocent victim to the rage machine who fell asleep beside him. She also stole all the covers, so he spent half the night trying to either steal the covers back or prevent them from being ripped out of his goddamn hands. When he woke up at eight, a perfectly reasonable time, she grumbled and called him a "butthead," for daring to shift the bed. Even then, she still slept for almost another two hours.

 

When she finally emerged, hair sticking up in every direction and stifling a yawn, she looked around the kitchen in disbelief, and muttered, "where's the coffee?" 

 

"I don't have any. Caffeine is for the weak," he replied. Her eyes narrowed, and hell, he'd never been so scared in his life. 

 

She took a breath, attempted to smooth down a lock of hair, and said slowly, "I'm going to go shower. And when I come back out in twenty minutes, there will be coffee. Black. In the biggest container you can find." And then she turned and walked back in the direction of his room. 

 

He had stared in shock for a minute before she shouted from behind the door, "nineteen minutes, butthead!"

 

Murphy had never gotten ready and out the door of his apartment so fast. 

 

When he'd presented the coffee to her, she took a sip and smiled a little, but he could tell it wasn't up to par. "Good, but the shop on 7th is less strictly bitter, and Bellamy says the beans there are of higher quality," she said. 

 

He snorted, "then why don't you sleep in Bellamy's bed." It was the wrong thing to say, and he knew it.

 

The look on her face made him think he'd kicked a kitten, so he grumbled out an apology. But since she was Clarke, she wouldn't let him off easy, which normally he appreciated.

 

This time, she tilted her head to the side and smiled with fake sweetness, "I will. When you admit to Raven that you wanna run towards her in a field of flowers while wearing a brown suede vest."

  

He deserved that, he knew it. So, he grimaced, but he took it, and  _that_ seemed to put her in a better mood. 

 

"Come on," he said, "I bet you a blow job my pancakes taste better than Bellamy's."

 

She grinned. "Have you tasted those shits?" She shook her head. "You're on."

 

She, or rather, Bellamy, lost, and even though he'd told her he'd only been kidding about the blow job, she did it anyway. It was awesome. 

* * *

After six months of him barely tolerating Lincoln's presence, O had mandated that the two of them had to have mandatory bonding time or she was going to lock them in a closet until they were friends, or at least, civil. Not wanting to live out the plot of a romantic comedy trope with his little sister's boyfriend, he begrudgingly agreed. Now, he actually looked forward to playing basketball with the other, even though he never had a chance in hell of winning. When he and O hadn't spoken for almost eight months, he and Lincoln had continued the tradition. It was the only way he even knew she was alive.

 

Miller started joining in not long after he and O stopped speaking, which Bellamy suspected had a lot to do with the other wanting to look out for him without smothering him. Jackson came when he wasn't on shift at the hospital, and even Monty, Jasper, and Murphy started coming once he and O made tentative steps to repair their relationship. 

 

They had all grimaced when O had flippantly said it was "cute" that they all got together for "guy time". 

 

They all happened to have that Sunday morning free, and he didn't feel bad about abandoning Echo, either. She had kickboxing with Emori every Sunday morning. She'd been particularly happy when she left his place today because Raven had agreed to let out some stress she was dealing with at work, and join them. Raven had been hesitant because she didn't think it'd work with her leg, but Emori was positive she had developed a system that wouldn't fail. They were finally going to try it out. 

 

When he got to the park, everyone else was already there, except Murphy. 

 

"Where's the cockroach?" He asked, dropping his gym bag onto the grass near the best of the basketball courts, which was thankfully empty, even at this time on a Sunday. No need for Lincoln to stare down the group of teenagers until they relinquished the court to them. 

 

Monty and Miller exchanged a look, Jasper kicked pebble, and only Lincoln was brave enough to answer, "he said, and I quote, 'I'm staying in bed all day today. Please only contact me if a miracle happens. Like Bellamy winning the game.'"

 

His face must've done something, because Lincoln added, "he's probably just being a lazy ass and doesn't feel like getting beaten into the dirt again."

 

Monty jumped in, "yeah, I mean, it's not the first time he's bailed." Jasper nodded vigorously, for once, he wasn't wearing his goggles. If he had, they would've definitely fallen off. Jackson was inspecting the basketball as if he were in the Davinci Code and it held the key to unlocking the final secrets. 

 

Finally, Bellamy shook his head, and said, "Clarke slept over at his last night."

 

Miller shrugged, "so what? Don't her, Harper and O have a ceramics class at ten?" He glanced at his watch, "it's almost that time now."

 

Monty looked pained. 

 

"What?" Bellamy asked. 

 

Monty looked at Lincoln, who nodded. 

 

"She texted Harper. Said she was missing it today." 

 

"Oh," was all he could get out, "is that all she said?"

 

"Um..." Monty said, his voice getting a little pitchy. 

 

"Doesn't mean they're together. She could have to do some work or be sick or something," Jasper said, and Jackson looked at him for the first time.

 

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "You guys are cowards," he shot at the others. Monty and Jasper looked sheepish, Miller turned stony, and Jackson once again focused on the ball. He continued, "Octavia wouldn't let up until Clarke told her that she was staying in bed with him all day, alright? Now, can we just play?"

 

"Absolutely," he said, "I mean, I don't care. If that's what you guys think." Not even Lincoln had the guts to respond to _that._  

 

They divided up into teams. Lincoln, Jackson, and Jasper, and Monty, Miller, and Bellamy. Miller and Lincoln were almost matched in skill, as were Monty and Jackson. He knew he wasn't great, especially compared to Lincoln, but whatever. He was better than Jasper. If only by a little. He had been captain of the soccer team in high school, okay? 

 

Still, his skills, or lack thereof, were on another level today. He couldn't get the image out of his head. The fact that they were spending the entire day together. In bed. Doing god knows what. It was wrecking him if he was being honest. Every time he managed to actually get the ball, Lincoln and Jackson barely had to try to get it away from him. Usually, he'd make at least a couple of baskets, but he missed every shot he tried. It didn't help that he'd seen Clarke and Murphy together, so his imagination had a perfect starting point to go into the worst possible scenarios. 

 

"Dude, the fuck?" Miller asked when they decided to take a break after a half an hour of the most brutal ass-handing he'd ever received. 

 

He shrugged and leaned back onto the grass. "I'm never any good," he said, sipping from a water bottle. 

 

Monty slumped next to him. "Yeah, but usually...I mean, usually, it's not this _sad_."

 

Jackson, Jasper, and Lincoln exchanged high-fives and grinned at each other, but sobered when Miller shot them a glare. 

 

Monty coughed, a pathetically fake one, too. Miller opened his mouth and then closed it again. Jasper bounced from foot to foot as if he had to pee. 

 

Lincoln grumbled something about, "being the only fucking adult amongst you idiots."

 

Jackson caught the other's eye and shook his head slightly, Bellamy noticed, but Lincoln didn't heed the other's warning. 

 

"Bellamy, you have to talk about this shit, or you're gonna explode one day. As much as that would be hilarious to witness, Octavia...She's worried about you," he eyed everyone else, "we all are."

 

"Worried about what?" No one said anything, but it was all over their faces. He shook his head, "oh come on, you guys! It's not like that." When that didn't convince them, he went on, "I'm fine, okay? I told Clarke that she could whatever she wanted with him, alright? And, you know, Murphy and I haven't talked about it, but I would say the same thing to him," even though no one argued this point, he admitted, "I mean, I was pissed at first, but that's only because I didn't want them screwing with the group dynamic. But nothing's really changed, and they haven't messed up yet, so, you know. Everything's good."

 

But he couldn't stop, "is it a little weird that they're spending all day in bed together when even Echo and I haven't done that, I don't know, maybe." His voice had gotten higher than he'd ever heard it. Monty's eyes were wide and looked like they were gonna pop out of his head. 

 

He didn't let that stop him though, "I. Am. Engaged. Okay? And I'm really happy. In fact, I am happy for _them_. Not just happy," he said, "but overjoyed."

 

Jasper made a sound that vaguely resembled a dying walrus, and he knew what those sounded like. He and Clarke had gotten high and watched Planet Earth together after she told him that she and Lexa broke up. 

 

Miller had placed a hand over his mouth and Jackson was squinting at him. 

 

"That's the biggest bunch of bullshit I've ever heard," Lincoln said, "you hate this. You hate that they're sleeping together. You gotta make good with it, or _you're_ gonna be the one to ruin things in the group."

 

Bellamy scoffed. "I told you. I'm _fine_."

 

"Oh my god! We all know you're a complete disaster and that little speech just proved it and if you don't open up about this we're all gonna die," Jasper said so quickly it all sounded like one word. Monty patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

 

He looked over at Bellamy like _he_ was the disappointed dad, and gestured to Jasper, "seriously, Bellamy, look at him, he's got anxiety! More than usual!"

 

Jasper nodded, "my therapist told me you sounded like someone who's in 'emotional turmoil'," he said, putting air quotes around the last two words. 

 

He opened his mouth to argue but realized he didn't have one. After a long moment, when no one said anything but looked at him expectantly, he got out, "so it's that obvious, huh?"

 

Lincoln, the only brave soul among them, didn't hesitate, "yes."

 

"Does Clarke know?"

 

Miller shook his head. "I don't think there's anyone as oblivious as Clarke Griffin when it comes to your feelings for her."

 

He let out a breath, "shit. Does Echo know?" That probably should've been his first question, really, and it should've told him something pretty damn important that it wasn't, but he didn't let himself dwell on that for too long. 

 

Monty spoke up, "she talked to Harper and Emori about it, one night, when they were all drunk, about a week ago. I think Harper convinced her that she was just nervous about the wedding and everything moving forward between you guys at the same time Clarke and Murphy told us they were, you know," fuck, did he ever. 

 

"But?" Bellamy asked. 

 

"Echo is far from dumb. She's always been able to read people, and...She suspects," Monty said, "but, she loves you, and you did _propose_ , and," he shrugged, "she wants it to work." 

 

"I do too," he said because it was the truth.

 

He was never going to have a future with Clarke, but he could have one, a happy one, too. With Echo. 

 

"Well, then, you know..." Monty swallowed, but Miller cut in.

 

"You can talk about it with us, and we won't let anything get back to Clarke or Echo. Or hell, Murphy," he said.

 

"Guys..."

 

Lincoln silenced him with a look. "If you really wanna go through with marrying Echo, and I'm not saying you should, but if it's what you want, then...Fine. If you do, then you're gonna need to let out your shit about the..."

 

"Clurphy situation," Jasper added, nodding gravely. 

 

Lincoln rolled his eyes, but he agreed. 

 

There really wasn't anything he could say that was going to convince them otherwise, so he just said, "alright. Next time I get, you know, in emotional turmoil," he shot Jasper a glare, "I'll come and be a little bitch about it to one of you."

 

They all looked relieved at that. Bellamy figured he'd say more, something about how much he loved Echo and was excited about his marriage with her, but before he could, a group of menacing thirteen-year-olds arrived at the court. 

 

"Hey, old men!" One of them shouted, "if you're done braiding each other's hair and painting your nails, how about we play a game? Loser has to buy the other Italian ice?"

 

"You're on!" Jasper shouted, jumping up. 

 

Bellamy stood up, and Lincoln clapped him on the shoulder. 

 

"Come on," he said, "If nothing else, getting our asses kicked by a bunch of kids will definitely take your mind off of things."

 

He laughed, because yeah, even with Lincoln and Miller, there was no way they were winning.

* * *

Harper argued that since the guys had basketball, the girls deserved to have time just for themselves too, and really, no one had the heart to deny her anything when she gave them those puppy dogs eyes. The resulting smile she gave when they all agreed was also worth it. 

 

Unlike the guys with basketball, they didn't all necessarily get together every week or have a specific day or set activity they did, the last of which was mainly because they couldn't all agree on one thing. So, they took turns, since Raven argued that was the only fair way to do it. 

 

It was Harper's pick, which meant a fancy wine tasting an hour away from Arkadia that Octavia protested all the way up to the front door. Clarke preferred beer or the harder stuff as well, and the whole thing gave her unseemly flashbacks to her relationship with her mother, but for her friend's sake, she kept quiet. 

 

"I bet everyone here is an asshole with a pole up their ass," Octavia grumbled but followed the rest of them onto the outdoor area where the restaurant had set them up. 

 

The get-togethers had been awkward for a bit when Harper had first started inviting Echo. Mainly because of her and Octavia's history, but Clarke wasn't above admitting her own role in it as well. It wasn't that she was jealous, she'd argued to Raven one night at Grounders, it was that she was afraid of losing Bellamy's friendship, that he would get sucked into the relationship and never come out. Once she realized that she and Bellamy would always be friends, no matter if he and Echo got serious, things were a lot easier. 

 

When they were seated and given the first round of red wine, Clarke let the others make comments about it. Talking about hints of chocolate or bitter versus sweet. She knew the terms, but also knew that Raven and Emori would make fun of her if she ever used them seriously. Which, if she was them, she would've as well. 

 

They talked about work for a while, since all of them were in such different fields.

 

Harper was about the best yoga instructor in the neighborhood, and she'd been saving up for her own studio and wellness center since they'd graduated school. She took a sip of wine, and groaned, "you guys, I'm so fucking close to having enough. I can practically taste the cucumber water I'm gonna have at the front desk."

 

Raven was kicking ass at BECCA tech. "You can all be assured, Engineer of the Year 2019 is mine," she said, "as long as this idiot Wick stops trying to take credit for my work."

 

Emori waved both of her hands as she talked about the expansion of the gym, and how she wanted to offer a variety of classes when she had space and the money to pay for more trainers. "I'm telling you guys," she raved, " _Emori's_ is gonna take over the world one day."

 

When she was asked, Clarke told them about the new show that she was organizing, not the first she'd done on her own by any means, but the first for a high profile artist. She let out a breath and set down her glass, "it's just that I know I can do it, but if I fuck up, I'm pretty sure this Russell guy will make sure I never work again. And his wife is even scarier."

 

Octavia was working as a social worker, which she commented, "the pay is shit, as always, because god forbid you actually pay people what they deserve," but, "it's amazing. Even if it doesn't always work out, one out of every ten kids is a success, and they come back and tell me that my dumbass inspired them to get their shit together."

 

She laughed, but then turned serious, and added, "there was this one kid, twelve, both parents drug addicts, who I told my whole freaking story to, and she just came back, nine months later. She'd decided to stop running away from her foster homes after only a week. Said the first two were shit, but that the third was good, and had decided to adopt her. Not only that, but they were willing to get her anger management classes, and she hadn't been in a fight in a month, when before she was getting in them practically every day. Apparently, she realized if she didn't get help, she was gonna end up like me," Octavia waved a hand, "which, really, how could I actually be insulted by, you know? But then she said, 'not that that would be so bad, though'." She gave a genuine smile at that. 

 

"You've done a really good job. Getting things back, working on yourself. It's really impressive," Clarke said after no one said anything for a bit, "and I know Bellamy's proud of you."

 

Octavia swiped at her eyes after that, "I have allergies, okay!" No one believed her, but they let her have it. 

 

Echo worked for the mayor's office, so there wasn't much she could say. "However," she told them, a little wryly, "I can confirm we have spoken to Infrastructure, and we are working on getting that damn pothole on 8th and Chesnut street taken care of."

 

This was met with a chorus of "thank god," and "seriously, that thing is death's embrace waiting to take me," and "it's about damn time," all of which made Echo laugh, which was a rare sight. 

 

They waited until they'd all sobered up enough to drive and then split into two cars. Originally, Clarke had been with Echo and Raven, since Echo had already been at her place, and the other only lived a block away, and she assumed it'd be the same way going back.

 

But Emori exclaimed, "Echo and Raven and I have bride and bridesmaid things to discuss!" Octavia made a noise of protest, but it didn't sound nearly as offended as she usually was when she wasn't included in something, Emori went on, " _sexy_ bride things!" This made Octavia pretend to throw up and Clarke more than happy to make the trip back in Harper's Subaru. 

 

Octavia claimed the back for herself since she said she was still feeling a little tipsy and wanted to spread her legs out on the other seat, so Clarke got into the passenger side.

 

Harper pulled up a playlist on Spotify, some folksy pop that she never listened to, but was better than the EDM Murphy had tried to make her like. 

 

Really, she should've recognized it for what it was: an ambush. 

 

"So," Harper said, not taking her eyes off the road, "how're you feeling about the whole wedding thing."

 

She furrowed her brow. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

 

"It's just that, things are gonna be really different once they're married."

 

This made her frown. She hadn't even thought about that as a possibility. "I mean, aside from him moving out, I don't see how."

 

The other woman swallowed, "a lot changes when you get married."

 

She knew it was a bitch thing to do, but she asked, "cause you'd know?"

 

If it was anyone else, they would've snapped back, but Harper just said, "well, you know. Things were really different between me and my little brother when he got married. He didn't mean them to be, they just were. It took us a while to find a new normal."

 

"Right," she said, thinking it over, "well, I don't think that's gonna happen here. Bellamy said when he told me he was getting engaged that nothing would change between us, so," she shrugged. 

 

Harper glanced in her rearview mirror but didn't say anything else.

 

Or at least, she didn't have the opportunity to, because Octavia blurted out, "oh my god, you're so not cool with this wedding and I think it might be because you're so in love with him and you don't even know but this is clearly destroying you, which I think is why you're sleeping with Murphy but I haven't been able to confirm it and I told you, Harper, it wasn't about Lexa and you need to tell him before he marries that random hoe!"

 

"Please," Harper said, "do not call Echo 'that random hoe'. She is our friend."

 

"But she isn't Clarke!" Octavia said. 

 

Harper seemed to have no response for that. 

 

"Clarke here," she said, "and uh, I just wanna point out that I am not in love with Bellamy, okay? I am happy for him. For them," she corrected, "and I'm not sleeping with Murphy because of them. I am sleeping with Murphy...Because I just am."

 

She risked looking over her shoulder, which was a bad call. Octavia had narrowed her eyes and was staring at her as if she'd grown a second head.

 

"Why aren't you in love with him?" She demanded.

 

Clarke sputtered, "I don't know. I don't feel that way about him. He's my best friend. That's it."

 

Octavia slapped a hand over her forehead and closed her eyes. "Harper, help me out here, I don't even...I can't accept this much bullshit after four glasses of wine midday."

 

"It is not bullshit, it's the truth," she said. 

 

Harper looked like she was debating jumping out of the car, but she took a breath, and said, "if Clarke says she isn't in love with him, and that she is happy for him and Echo, then maybe she is."

 

"Traitor. You and I decided we were in this together when we were in the bathroom," Octavia said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

"Thank you, Harper," Clarke grinned in victory. 

 

Octavia shook her head. "You really think you've won something, don't you?"

 

"Yep," she replied, still grinning. 

 

"I'm texting Lincoln," she said, waving a hand of dismissal, "we're getting schwasted tonight to forgot about how dumb all of our friends are."

 

"I hope you have a great time," Clarke told her. 

 

Octavia muttered a string of curses but didn't say anything else. Harper turned the music up a little bit louder, and they drove the rest of the way back to Arkadia in silence. 

* * *

Sometimes, Raven forgot to be pissed at Murphy, like when they having their weekly  _Peaky Blinders_ watch. They had just started on season two, and shit was getting wild. He just got so...Into whatever they were watching. So much so that he didn't notice when she slid her eyes over at him. Though she would never tell him so, she had decided he was pretty damn good-looking. Not in an obvious way. But in a kind of criminal, but would still tuck you into bed with a kiss on the forehead, way. She didn't know what that said about her. 

 

Shaw was at his place since he had another early morning at ELIGIUS, where he worked designing cars and high-tech bikes. He sometimes joked it made him a high-class mechanic. Murphy took this as an opening to refer to him as a plain old mechanic, which she thought was kind of a dumb thing for Shaw to be insulted by, but he was. 

 

Risking another glance to her right, she noticed that Murphy's eyes had gone a little wide and he seemed to be holding in a breath. She felt herself smirk and think: _that's cute_. Only to remember where she was and who she was and who she was thinking about. Well, she thought to herself, that was disturbing. She went back to watching the show and stayed incredibly attentive, and tense if she was being honest, the rest of the episode. 

 

When the credits began to roll, Murphy breathed out, "oh my god. They just..." He shook his head. "Fucking Thomas Shelby, man," he grinned and it made Raven laugh. 

 

"You getting ready for your big experimentation at twenty-eight?" She asked.

 

"Hey," he said, "firstly, you know I would do anything, anywhere with Thomas Shelby, and secondly, I am still twenty-seven, thank you very much."

 

She snorted. "For like, three months."

 

"Still counts, which means you still have time to cradle rob me," he fired back and started clearing away their dishes.

 

"In your dreams," she said. 

 

He always cooked for their tv watching nights, bringing over this fancy Tupperware that she relentlessly mocked him for. This week, it'd been flatbread (which she claimed was just a bullshit fancy term for pizza) with fresh tomato sauce, sausage, and mozzarella. They'd done tiramisu for dessert. 

 

When Murphy had finished with the dishes, she noticed a little Tupperware of tiramisu left on the counter. She wasn't stupid. In fact, she was a genius, so she figured it out right away. 

 

"You going to see Clarke after this?" She asked. 

 

He looked down at his shoes, and blushed a little, but nodded, "yeah, she kinda found out I was making it and I think she'd kill me if I didn't give her some."

 

"Some _dessert_ ," Raven said, her voice a delicate balance between a threat and teasing. 

 

He squinted his eyes at her, "yeah...Well, we'll probably, you know," he shrugged.

 

She cleared her throat, which she hadn't realized had gotten all tight. It must've been all the food and beer and no water. "Right."

 

"Anyways," he said, "I'm gonna," and he nodded towards the door. 

 

She followed him out. He was reaching for the doorknob when she said before she could stop herself, "why her? Why Clarke?"

 

Murphy paused and turned around. They were teetering on very dangerous territory, she felt it. Things had only just begun to calm down between them, and for her to demand anything from him about his sex life could spell disaster. 

 

But he gave her his signature smirk, and said, "cause you were already with Gary the mechanic, Reyes."

 

She rolled her eyes, of course, he was fucking with her.

 

"Asshole," she said, but there was fondness in her tone.

 

When she shoved his shoulder, he smirked even more, "as if you expected anything else."

 

"Whatever," she said, "see you next week?"

 

"Wouldn't miss it for the end of the world," he said, which made her roll her eyes again. 

 

She locked the door behind him, looked at her now empty apartment, and she couldn't help but miss the little shit. As a begrudging friend and probably more like an ally, she told herself. That was all it was. Right?


	5. Girl All the Bad Guys Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the amazing feedback i've received! without you guys, i don't know what i would do! you have made me want to bust out these chapters and keep going with this story, and i am so grateful for all the support! as always, comments and kudos feed my soul, but no hate, please! this chapter was really fun to write, but i did end up having to break it into two parts since it got wayyy too long. everyone gets to let loose a little here, which i always think is needed since we never really get that in the show lol

"It'll be really fun, I swear," Clarke had pleaded for the fifth time a couple of days ago when she first introduced the idea. No one was particularly enthused, but she wouldn't let up. Raven wanted to tell her that it was hopeless, that no way any of them, let alone even one or two, would agree to attend one of the notorious parties thrown by Clarke's semi-girlfriend in high school, Anya. It wasn't that the party itself made everyone hesitate, but rather, that it was _themed_. 

 

_The Delinquents Group Chat_

 

 **Clarke:**  i know it's not some of your guys' thing but i really think we're missing out on a golden opportunity to have some fun

 

 **Miller:** you keep saying that, but i really don't think it's true

 

 **Clarke:** where is your guys' sense of kitsch??

 

 **Octavia:** wtf is kitsch??

 

 **Clarke:** seriously, did you really not pay any attention in art history 101??

 

 **Monty:** she was too busy checking out atom's ass

 

 **Bellamy:** lalalalalalala shhhhhhhh no one speak of any of that here 

 

 **Lincoln:**  ditto-also, that dude was a dick

 

 **Octavia:** don't worry lincoln, you're still my fave

 

 **Jasper:** 🤮

 

 **Bellamy:** retweet

 

 **Harper:** bellamy, you know what a retweet is????

 

 **Bellamy:** fuck u

 

 **Clarke:** BACK TO BUSINESS-the party!!!!

 

 **Murphy:** who the fuck even throws a party where the theme is dressing as your high school self???

 

 **Clarke:** the theme is...whatever, but anya's throwing it in this huge warehouse downtown and there will definitely be high-quality tequila there

 

 **Emori:** fuck it, im in 

 

 **Murphy:** that's only because you would sell your soul for tequila, which you might actually be doing

 

 **Emori:** don't be a pussy, John-afraid Clarke here won't find you hot once she sees how you used to dress?

 

 **Clarke:** look, i didn't want to pull this card, but...i have someone for jasper-she just started working at the gallery and anya and her met when she came to pick up a piece she'd bought and she invited her too

 

 **Bellamy:** you mean, like, to murder???

 

 **Clarke:** ha! he wishes-someone, to you know, fuck

 

 **Miller:** MOM

 

 **Jackson:** tsk tsk, language!

 

 **Monty:** what has Murphy done to her

 

 **Murphy:** the question is, what haven't i done to her???

 

 **Bellamy:** i will delete myself from this group

 

 **Octavia:** that is...unseemly 

 

 **Jasper:** OH MY GOD 

 

 **Miller:** here we go

 

 **Jasper:** I JUST GOT DONE WITH WORK

 

 **Jasper:** I HAVEN'T BEEN LAID IN

 

 **Jasper:** WAIT LET'S NOT GO THERE BC ITS SAD AND THIS IS NOT SAD THIS IS AMAZING

 

 **Jasper:** WE ARE ALL GOING TO THAT FUCKING PARTY 

 

 **Raven:** why do we all have to go to a dumb party just so you can try and get laid???

 

 **Jasper** : BECAUSE ITS GONNA BE A GROUP EFFORT TO MAKE SURE I DONT FUCK IT UP

 

 **Lincoln:** I will come and make sure Octavia does too if you stop texting in all caps

 

 **Jasper:** ok, ok, its all good-im cool-like frosty the snowman

 

 **Harper:** oh dear lord, he's right-it really is gonna take all of us

 

 **Monty:**  i will be there too-finally might be able to whip out my wingman skills

 

 **Echo:** he's pouting about it but me and Bellamy are in-anything to help Jasper out

 

 **Jackson** : Nate, we're going

 

 **Murphy:**  y'all are whipped

 

 **Raven:** eh. i think i have some of my old glasses lying around-i guess ill come

 

 **Murphy:**  whatever, im in too-no one get too excited about it tho bc im getting belligerent the second we get through the door

 

 **Clarke:** awesome! now i'll text you guys the address and figure we'll all get ubers or lyfts or whichever one is least terrible that week

 

 **Jasper:** YIPEEEEEEEE!! I BELIEVE IN OUR ABILITY TO GET ME LAID, YOU GUYS!

 

 **Lincoln:** Jasper.

 

 **Jasper:** sorry 

* * *

Things had been going better for Bellamy recently. Mostly because of in light of the previous Sunday, he had people he could rant to about the Clarke and Murphy situation. When they had come into Grounders, both sporting hickeys that he never would've noticed if her shirt hadn't been low-cut and he hadn't kept tugging on his collar, the next night he and Miller had a couple of beers and he stewed about it for almost an hour. For the first time since he'd found out about them, he could actually express how he was feeling.

 

He'd asked Miller if he thought Bellamy was being too much or overly judgemental, but the other only shook his head, and told him, "like I said, we're here for you, man."

 

He was actually looking forward to the party, though they weren't really his thing. For a while in undergrad, they had been, when he'd been in a frat those first two years. Eventually, he realized he didn't love getting blackout and falling into bed with a random stranger. Maybe the second part took him a couple more years to figure out, but he got there. 

 

The dressing up part was, even he had to admit, lame, but Echo had rooted around in the basement until she found his soccer uniform, and demanded that he had to wear it. He supposed since she was wearing her volleyball one, it was only fair. 

 

They got out at the address, and he was a little intimidated. This was definitely the kind of place Clarke and her art-scene friends got invited to, and not at all the place he did. It was downtown, but not on the main street. There were numerous people smoking outside, a lot of them wearing sports jerseys, but also a fair amount of punk and goth-looking people and others in just jeans or niche t-shirts. The building clearly used to have been used for some kind of manufacturing, and he wondered about the history of it.

 

When he'd told Clarke he was thinking of researching its past, she snorted, and said, "for someone with abs like yours, you are such a nerd," which made him forget all about his research. 

 

Raven and Shaw were standing outside. Raven dressed in a pair of low-slung jeans, a striped crop top, and a pair of oversized glasses that had the lenses popped out. Her hair was in pigtails. Shaw was wearing a rock band t-shirt and jeans, as well as a pair of beaten up converse. 

 

"Damn, Echo," Raven said when she noticed them. 

 

Echo waved a hand, and she said, "it's nothing." But since he was allowed to check her out, as she was his finacé and everything, he smirked. She was hot, after all. 

 

Harper and Monty showed up next. Monty in a polo and jeans so tight they looked painful. He'd styled his hair so a large portion of it was on the right, which made his head look slightly misshapen. Harper was wearing what looked like a uniform for a diner. 

 

"I was there more than I was even in school I think," she said, as an explanation. 

 

Jackson and Miller's Uber pulled up. Jackson was in a baseball jersey and jeans. "I couldn't bring myself to wear the pants," he explained.

 

Miller grinned, "not that they didn't look hot as fuck." He was in all black. From the beanie stuck onto his head to the long sleeve t-shirt to his baggy jeans that were positioned exceptionally low. He grumbled, "I can't believe I used to walk around with my pants like this. I was such a douchebag."

 

Lincoln looked relatively the same as he always did. He told them, "when you find a good thing, you don't change it." 

 

O was in a tube top and neon orange flair pants, and a pair of platform flip flops. She checked her reflection in her phone camera, before shaking her head and saying, "I definitely do not miss my rave days."

 

He nodded. "Me neither."

 

Emori got there next. She was wearing some strange tunic that was clearly made out of organic fibers and a pair of leggings and sandals. She shrugged, "yeah, before I was a badass, I was kind of a hippy."

 

Murphy showed up alone, which made Bellamy incredibly happy, even though he knew that he and Clarke probably wouldn't end the night that way. The second he was close enough for them to see him, Raven started laughing hysterically. Low slung jeans like Miller's, but they were blue, maybe even acid wash, and had a chain on one of the pockets. A plain t-shirt and an oversized zip-up hoodie that went down to his knees. Complete with an eyebrow piercing. 

 

"You look," she said in between laughs as she tried to get a hold of her breathing, "like early 2000s Avril Lavigne's dumb boyfriend."

 

He rolled his eyes, "and you look like you belong in a Spice Girls music video," which she just laughed even harder at, because, it was true. 

 

Jasper was bouncing when he got out of his ride. Goggles on his forehead. Jeans that were as tight as Monty's. And god help them all, a Dungeons and Dragons collectors t-shirt. 

 

"Did you even have to root around in your closet for that stuff, or was it on top of the laundry pile?" Octavia asked.

 

They started in with the jabs then, asking Bellamy how many passes he'd made at the game and Harper if she could please get them another order of fries. O started re-enacting the dance moves that were popular at the clubs she used to go to. Murphy and Raven tore into one another exclusively, it seemed. She called him an emo-wannabe. He called her a less sexy Britney Spears. It went on like that for a while. 

 

"Clarke said it's almost time for her to show us her shame, she'll just be a second," Harper said.

 

He frowned. "She's already here?"

 

"She got here early to make sure no one hit on _Maya_ ," O sang out the last word. 

 

Jasper blushed. Clarke had been telling them all about the girl that was, if what she said was to actually to be believed, the girl of his dreams. 

 

O smirked, and said, "you guys are gonna _die_ when you see her."

 

"You know what she's wearing?" Raven asked.

 

She nodded.

 

"How? No one's seen pictures of Clarke in high school. Not even Bellamy," Jasper said, which he kind of wished he hadn't. 

 

They had begged, of course, made comments that it must've been really terrible if she never even told a single story about her time before she'd met them. But after a month of goading, she'd finally admitted that she'd done some things she wasn't proud of in high school and that a lot of that behavior, and the person she'd been back then, was because her dad died the summer after her freshman year. No one asked to see pictures or hear stories about high school after that. 

 

"Well..." O trailed off, and he gaped at her.

 

"You snooped. Didn't you?"

 

For the first time he could remember, she was quiet, and he shook his head. 

 

"Okay, yes," she admitted, "but honestly. The not knowing what she was like in high school, it was actually killing me."

 

He raised a brow at that, but she went on, "so I did a little light digging into the old family albums and her yearbooks when you and I were at her mom's place for Christmas that one year, and I won't say anything else but it's amazing."

 

Bellamy couldn't imagine Clarke being all that embarrassing, even as a teenager.

 

"Hey," Miller swatted him playfully, "there seems to be a lot of punks running around." He ignored him. 

 

Jackson grinned, and Monty and Jasper exchanged a look.

 

Harper's face contorted into one of confusion. 

 

"Let's just say our good friend Bellamy here had, an uh, _thing_ for punk girls in high school," Monty explained.

 

Bellamy glared at them. "I told you all that in confidence when I was plastered."

 

He was worried Echo might've been upset since she was clearly  _not_ that, but she laughed and started making fun of him along with everyone else. 

 

A group of said punks had just come out of the building and were smoking cigarettes. Echo nudged him and said it was alright if he asked one of them to the prom and not her, which made him roll his eyes and wrap a hand around her waist. 

 

One of the punks tilted her head a little and shifted her weight. The movement was so familiar to him it sent a shock through his heart. He really wished he didn't say what he did after that. "Does that girl, the shortest one, look like Clarke?" His own voice was a mix of disbelief and, he hoped no one else registered it, awe. 

 

"How can you tell that's Clarke, she isn't even facing us and she's like...fifty feet away," Harper said, laughing a little. 

 

Bellamy thought he at least had the ability to look sheepish at that. "I'm probably wrong," he shrugged, "and there's no way that Clarke was anything resembling punk in high school."

 

O was staring aggressively at her phone and typed out a message. 

 

Jasper shrugged. "There's only one way to find out," and he cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting, "CLARKE GRIFFIN IS THAT YOU?"

 

And then the punk girl patted one of the others on the arm, they laughed and she started walking over to them. Bellamy felt the ground go out from under him because once she was close enough that they could see her properly...Fuck his life, he thought. 

 

Clarke Griffin _had_ been a punk in high school. Or at least, something resembling that. She was wearing a mesh long sleeved top with only a black bra underneath, that he tried not to dwell on for too long. Her jeans were...Something else. They were black, seemed to be glued to her body, and the only thing that seemed to be holding them together was a row of industrial safety pins on either of the outer seams. On her feet were purple boots bigger than his head. That was just what she was wearing. Her eyes were ringed with so many layers of kohl eyeliner that they seemed to glow, even outside at ten at night, and her lips were painted a grayish color, almost black, but not quite. She'd dyed her hair, he noticed. Just the tips, though. A bright pink that swirled around her curls. A row of earrings of various shapes and designs went all the way up both ears, and she had a septum piercing he'd never seen before. 

 

She flushed as she approached and looked away from him. He'd been staring at her for too long, he worried, and everyone else had already reacted when Bellamy wasn't paying attention. A mix of whistles and "oh fuck," and "who knew?" and "I did!"

 

"Show them the best part!" O shouted though it sounded like he was in a fishbowl, her voice distorted and far away. 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes, but everyone stared at her expectantly. Finally, she flipped O off and stuck out her tongue. It was pierced. That little silver stud mocked him, and would probably continue to do so all night, he figured. He truly thought he was going to die. 

 

And then Murphy walked over to her, smirked, cupped her face in his hands, and brought her in for a searing kiss. Which, to his credit, he did not turn away from. But this meant he saw the moment when she let him stick his tongue down her throat. When they pulled away, her lipstick was a little bit smudged, but she made no move to fix it. 

 

"Come on, Skater Boy," she said, yanking Murphy by the shirt in the direction of the warehouse, "we gotta get Jasper laid before he actually combusts."

 

He wouldn't be the only one, Bellamy thought. 

 

She did look over her shoulder at him though and rolled her eyes. She scrunched up her nose and mouthed: _that bad?_

He couldn't even form a coherent thought, but somehow managed to reply:  _no more than usual._

 

This made her laugh, which made him feel considerably better. It wasn't until they entered the building that he realized somewhere along the way he'd dropped his arm from Echo's waist. 

* * *

Murphy was considering ending it all, and it was because of Raven Reyes' ass. Specifically, her ass in those jeans. So, he had practically thrown himself at Clarke, to make sure no one noticed how hard he was trying to not look at the other woman.  

 

Clarke, who had said to Echo and Bellamy as they neared the warehouse, "you two look like you were made for each other in all your jock glory," didn't seem to be protesting it. 

 

When she'd kissed him that first time, he'd been kinda shocked. He'd figured she'd want to keep whatever they were doing as far away from Bellamy's eyes as possible. But he'd started to notice how every touch, every casual exchange between Echo and Bellamy was carefully noted by her. It took him a while to even realize that that was what she was doing since she looked at Bellamy a lot regardless of whether or not Echo was around, but he managed to figure it out. 

 

"You trying to make him jealous?" He'd asked, kind of jokingly, earlier that week after she put on a low-cut top before they went to Grounders, one that clearly showed off the hickey he'd given her. 

 

She'd stiffened. 

 

"It's okay if you are, or if you just wanna do it because you know it messes with him on some level, even if it's not how you want," when she didn't say anything, and just kept staring at herself in the mirror, he'd admitted, "I want the same thing, you know. Make Raven see what she can't have." He'd swallowed and looked at his shoes. "I know it's pathetic, and probably doesn't even have an impact on her, but..." He'd shrugged. 

 

She'd turned around and faced him. "I'm down if you are," she'd said. 

 

"Since when am I not down for your conniving plans, Griffin?"

 

She'd smirked, and that night in their booth, he made sure Bellamy and Raven noticed the hickey she'd given him, too. 

 

And when he kissed her in front of everyone outside the warehouse, it hadn't really been about her, or about him. As awful and sad as it was, it was about _them_. 

 

It was pretty dark inside, which he figured. A girl that Clarke dated would fucking love strobe lights and blaring dance hall music. And no, it was not the art that was certain EDM that he had tried to educate her on, but it was all of the hits from during or around his high school years. He'd heard about these parties from her, but nothing really prepared him for the real thing.

 

For one, a lot of people were dressed like Clarke, which wasn't a surprise, since her hometown was only an hour away, and Anya's parties weren't something one missed if they could help it. There were girls and guys in actual cages dancing on platforms. Clad in what looked a lot like leather. Servers dished out drinks, dressed in black leotards and all of them with a giant mohawk wig, each in a different neon color so you could spot them easily. He was fairly certain there was a bubble or foam machine of some kind somewhere, but he hadn't seen it yet. As they made their way to the bar, which was in the middle of the space and adorned with neon purple and blue lights around the bartop and on the floor, he spotted no less than five smoke machines. 

 

Their friends were looking around with amazement, confusion, and fear. Harper bit her lip, smoothing down a crease in her uniform. Octavia was the only one unaffected, the lights reflecting off of her neon pants. 

 

"I think we're a little out of our element here, Clarke," Bellamy managed. 

 

She grinned wickedly at that, which Murphy saw turned the other guy's ears pink, and she said, "good. It's about time we get you all out of your comfort zones."

 

Turning to the bar, after assuring them that everything was free, (how fucking rich was Anya, he wanted to know) she ordered a round of double tequila shots. 

 

They all clinked their glasses together and drained them. Murphy felt a little better after the second round, a little less like a complete nerd surrounded by a bunch of rich artists that probably thought Clarke was a fool for bringing them all there. 

 

"I'm gonna go get Maya, alright?" She asked him, and he nodded.

 

Before she left them though, she yanked him into another kiss, which she ended by biting his lip and disappearing into the crowd. He turned just in time to see Raven quickly look away. Deciding not to let it get to him, he ordered a Jack and coke. The rest of them followed his lead, placing various orders, some more complex, like Harper's Sex on the Beach, and others as simple as you could get, like Emori, who got sipping tequila. 

 

When Clarke re-appeared, she was alone. 

 

"Please don't tell me she left, or she's making out with some scary punk dude," Jasper practically whined. 

 

"She's coming. I had Anya stall her for a moment so we can all give you a pep talk," she replied. 

 

"Brilliant," he said and looked around at everyone, then proceeded to get a panicked look on his face. "Oh my god you guys, you better start with the pepping and the talking because I think I might pass out."

 

Bellamy clapped him on the shoulder, "relax man, you got this. Just be yourself."

 

Echo stared at him straight in the eye, "Emori and I have been preparing you all week. You're ready," and even Murphy thought that it was hard to argue with her resolve. 

 

Miller got him another shot and handed it to Raven who said, "drink this," which he did. 

 

Octavia smiled and nodded aggressively, and hell, even Lincoln gave him a thumbs up. 

 

Murphy shrugged, "plus, Clarke said she's a complete nerd, so how scary can she really be?"

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Don't be an ass. Besides, I said she was into nerdy things, not that she was a nerd."

 

"There's a difference?" Harper asked.

 

Monty nodded gravely at her, and she said, before Jasper could start to freak out again, "it'll be fine."

 

"There they are," Clarke inclined her head.

 

They both had dark hair, but the taller one was dressed in a more elaborate, leathery, version of what Clarke was wearing, and if Murphy was being honest, looked terrifying and as if she hadn't smiled in years. Definitely Clarke's type, so he figured that had to be Anya. The second, he couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. 

 

"Clarke got me a cheerleader!" Jasper exclaimed, and Murphy couldn't tell which side was winning: the pulsating excitement or utter terror. 

 

She looked up at him and smirked. 

 

It was true, the shorter woman, Maya, was in a stereotypical cheerleader outfit. It looked legit too, not the kind that you bought at a costume store. It was a cropped white shirt that stopped right before the shoulders and had blue stitching with the letter 'R', which he assumed was the capital letter of her high school. Her skirt was pleated and shamefully short, and there was a bit of exposed midriff. Her hair was in a ponytail tied off with a blue ribbon. He gave Clarke a look, after all, this was _Jasper_ , but she jutted out her chin.  

 

"Maya, Anya, over here!" She shouted over the music and the two other women made their way over to their spot by the bar. 

 

"Clarke, you look great. Damn, it feels like we're back in detention all over again," Anya said. 

 

"Detention?" Bellamy asked. Something had sparked in his eyes besides the strobe lights. 

 

She raised her brows. "I, uh, had a bit of a reputation."

 

Anya snorted at that, and Clarke shot her a look. 

 

Murphy closed the distance between him and her, and said, "I would love to hear about what you and Clarke got up to in high school."

 

She looked down at Clarke, "so this is the guy your fucking?"

 

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "unfortunately."

 

Murphy feigned insult, "I am right here."

 

"I know," she deadpanned.

 

Anya glanced between Maya and Jasper, and Murphy wanted to make a snide comment about how obvious everyone was being, but Clarke elbowed him before he could.

 

"Well, one of my favorite new artists just arrived, so I should go say hi, but you have fun, alright?" Anya eyed Murphy and then grinned at Clarke, "and let me know if you get bored of this one, and want someone a little more adventurous."

 

Clarke laughed, and the other woman disappeared into the crowd. 

 

She took a breath, "anyway, Maya, I've already told you about everyone."

 

They all groaned at that.

 

"Only good things," Maya said, and her eyes flashed over to Jasper. 

 

He looked like he wasn't breathing, luckily, it seemed this girl was not as inept as he was, and she took the first step. She noticed his t-shirt, and her whole body seemed to react.   

 

Murphy exchanged a look with Monty, who looked disappointed. Leave it to Jasper to screw up a set-up without even uttering a word. Of course, he should've known better than to doubt Clarke. 

 

"Oh my god, you played D&D?" She asked. "My friends thought I was the biggest dork ever in high school for loving it so much. I mean, once I missed a cheer tournament because my group and I had been planning this amazing campaign for months, and," she waved a hand, "it was a complete disaster."

 

Jasper finally regained his ability to speak, to everyone's surprise. He adjusted his goggles, and said, "yeah, I played. I kinda still do actually."

 

Murphy thought that would have been the end, but he clearly misinterpreted the situation, because Maya's whole face lit up. 

 

"You do? Me too. I mean, it's the only thing I really keep up with from those days. I don't even run five miles a day anymore. Only three." At least that part tracked. He wondered when was the last time Jasper ran anywhere, and in a video game didn't count.

 

Maya went on though, "but they would have to pry D&D from my cold, dead hands before I gave it up." Okay, so maybe it wasn't as hopeless as he thought. 

 

It felt a little strange, that they were all standing around, witnessing this exchange, but it was kind of a miracle. 

 

Then a Lady Gaga song came on, one that Jasper happened to be obsessed with to that day and had a habit of playing on the piece of shit jukebox at Grounders after he snuck his fifth drink when they weren't looking. 

 

Clarke intervened again, "Maya, don't you love this song?"

 

The other woman blushed and admitted, "yeah...I do."

 

Clarke looked pointedly at Jasper, who thankfully, got the hint.

 

"No shit, me too." After a moment, he asked, "you wanna dance?"

 

"I'd love to," Maya said, and grabbed his hand and pulled him out towards the makeshift dancefloor. Jasper glanced over his shoulder, a look of pure glee on his face.

 

"Perhaps you lack subtly, but you get the job done," he told her. 

 

"Now that I have, how about we dance too?" She asked, looping her arms around his waist. 

 

"Or..." He trailed off. 

 

"We _are not_ having sex in one of the bathrooms here," she said. 

 

He didn't see it, but he felt everyone doing their best to ignore the exchange, all while pretending not to listen to every word. They were, of course, still their friends. 

 

"Come on," he whined, "I wanna see what that tongue piercing can do."

 

Was it just his imagination, or did Bellamy and Raven both actually flinch at that? 

 

He didn't have time to analyze the situation, because Clarke said, "But Anya might've told me there are old rooms where the supervisors used to sleep," she shrugged innocently, "and that she stocked them with air mattresses in case anyone needed to crash here."

 

"Are you asking me to have creepy sex in a warehouse that is probably full of ghosts?"

 

Chewing on her lip, she replied, "maybe?'

 

He shook his head in amazement, and said, "lead the way."

 

She let her arms drop from his waist so she could grab his hand. "We'll be back in a half an hour," she shouted over the music. 

 

No one had the balls to say anything back. 

 

That didn't stop him from grinning, and adding, "better make it forty-five minutes," and yeah, he did wink at the group, though really, it was at Raven and Bellamy, before he and Clarke took off. Sue him, he was a petty bitch.  

* * *

Bellamy stared after Clarke and Murphy for just a moment too long. 

 

Before Echo could notice, though really, she wondered how she hadn't by now, Raven said, "well, I need a shower," because it was the kind of thing she was supposed to be feeling in that moment. 

 

She was not, _was not_ , supposed to be feeling...Whatever the fuck this was. Octavia feigned a shiver of disgust, and Harper drained the last of her drink. Bellamy turned around towards the bar and ordered more shots for everyone. Monty's eyes went a little wide but he didn't say anything. 

 

Echo did, though, "maybe you wanna slow down?"

 

He shook his head, "it's a party," he said, his voice light, casual, and for a second, Raven almost believed it, "let's have a little fun." Echo shrugged and accepted the shot he'd handed her as he put an arm around her. 

 

"You gonna pout all night Raven, or are you gonna take a shot with me?" Bellamy asked. 

 

She was not pouting, okay? But knew better than to try and argue with him. 

 

"You're on, Blake," she said, and held up her glass and clinked it against Echo's and Bellamy's, "to whatever the hell this night turns out to be."

 

As soon as they were done with those, Raven and Bellamy ordered more. Echo raised a brow but smiled a little as she untangled herself. "You guys have fun, but be safe, alright? Emori and I are gonna go kick a bunch of former football players' asses at beer pong."

 

He gave her a quick kiss, and the two women went sauntering over to where there were tables set up for games. Vaguely, Raven registered a chorus of jeers from said football players, but she was already feeling too buzzed to care. 

 

She moved close enough to him that the rest of them wouldn't hear the two of them over the music. 

 

"I saw your face," Raven said as they slammed down their glasses. 

 

"I saw yours," he challenged. 

 

"It's not like that," she insisted. 

 

He gave her this look as if to say, _yeah, fucking right_. 

 

"Whatever," she waved a hand, "let's do another shot."

 

He grinned. "That's the spirit," he said and got them another round. And another. And another. 

 

It was gonna be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @thatbluedress for more information/updates or to just cry about the 100 and the various other things i obsess over!


	6. Girl All the Bad Guys Want (Reprise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly can't believe the response i've received. this was such a strange little idea i've had for so long, and had no idea if anyone would even be interested in it. all of your comments and kudos have fed me so well, and i am so thankful for each and every one of you! this chapter picks off right where the last one ended, and finishes up the party, which i've really loved writing. also, there is a spoiler for season 1 of stranger things here, just as a warning.

Raven could hold her liquor, alright? She could handle the best of the tech bros at her job and had no problem downing shot after shot. Still, she was starting to wonder if alcohol didn't even have an effect on Bellamy. She'd lost count of the number of drinks they'd shared somewhere around six, and she'd considered backing out then, but Clarke and Murphy still weren't back, so she'd agreed to one more round. After that, things got a little fuzzy. 

 

Perhaps in a move to save them all, Harper suggested the rest of them go and dance. She looked around, realizing that somewhere in the night Jackson and Miller had started dancing, as had Octavia and Lincoln. Echo and Emori had earned a reputation by the beer pong station and were in the middle of what appeared to be a spur of the moment tournament. Only Harper and Monty had stayed with them. Oh, and Shaw. He was still there, too. 

 

Raven was gonna shoot down Harper, as delicately as she could. Her heart just wasn't in it. In fact, she was fairly certain it was somewhere on the upper floor of the warehouse, fooling around on an air mattress. Before she could though, Bellamy actually made something that sounded vaguely like a, 'whoooo,' and draped an arm over both Harper and Monty as they made their way over to the rest of their friends. She started to shake her head, but Shaw grinned tugged her behind him along with their friends. 

 

"It'll be fun," he assured her. 

 

She tried not to grimace too much. 

 

When the others spotted them, Octavia enveloped her in a hug and whispered in her ear, "dude, don't tell anyone but Lincoln and I are definitely gonna pull a Clurphy later on." 

 

She laughed, hugged the girl back, and added, "make sure to disinfect that air mattress first though. You don't know which room they used."

 

The brunette shrugged and started once more with the dance moves that made her look as if she didn't have any bones. She supposed she had years of practice. Maybe not at a party quite like this, but certainly ones like it. 

 

She was planning an escape when Bellamy grabbed both of her arms and tugged them. Reluctantly, she swayed her hips. She was hoping he'd figure out that it was fruitless, when he shouted, "I know that look Raven and no one way in hell are you bailing, so just admit defeat now!"

 

She turned to look at Shaw, who shrugged. He wasn't a bad dancer, quite a good one, really. Certainly better than Murphy. So, she nodded at Bellamy, and he released her so she could place her arms around Shaw's neck.

 

She could be humble, alright? But she knew she was a kick-ass dancer. Even with her brace, she could still move her hips in a way that made most guys knees shake. 

 

She figured it was because before she realized she was meant for greatness as an engineer, she'd take ballet and other forms of dance for years, not that anyone knew about that. Except for Murphy, who'd gotten it out of her one night after a grueling episode of _Sons of Anarchy_ when one of his favorite characters died. Really, she'd told him because she wanted to make him laugh, and it did. That didn't mean that he didn't tease her about it all the time, though only when they were alone. 

 

The copious amounts of alcohol mixed with her definitely _not_ being jealous about Murphy led her to be a little wilder than she normally allowed. Certainly, Shaw wasn't complaining though, in fact, he'd never looked at her more thrilled. Or with more heat. 

 

She didn't notice Echo and Emori join them, but if she thought her and Shaw were being scandalous, it was nothing compared to what Bellamy was doing to Echo. 

 

Clarke and Murphy might've been the ones taking off their clothes upstairs, but they were looking at each other as if they just had. Or were about to. 

 

Octavia and her caught one another's eye and Raven rolled hers, but after a moment the other was no longer paying her any attention because she was looking over at something back near the bar. It wasn't easy to make out, with all the people and the lights, but she could see that it was them. Clarke and Murphy. She was too far away to read their facial expressions but she could see their body language. Her friends could be deceptive when they wanted to, could easily conceal their emotions, unlike herself, but it appeared they weren't even trying. 

 

Murphy had his arms crossed over his chest, and though she was too far away to see it, she knew that the vein in his forehead was probably popping out. Clarke's back was straight, her shoulders back, her jaw set. 

 

Who the fuck were they to judge _them_? After all, they were the ones that had just had actual sex at this damn party. Assholes, she thought. Then the crowd shifted, so she had a better view of them, and they had one of her and the others. Without even really thinking about it, she pulled Shaw down and slammed her lips against his. He reciprocated immediately, and she opened her mouth a moment after he opened his. She didn't know how long they kissed, or how much Murphy saw, and she told herself she didn't care. 

 

The only bad part was that her eyes were closed, and she couldn't see what it did to them. 

* * *

Clarke let out a shaky breath. She was out back of the warehouse that looked out onto an alley, smoking a cigarette, which she only did when she felt like she was going to fall apart. She was sitting on a stack of wooden pallets, and she kicked her right leg back and forth. Exhaling, she wondered why she hadn't cried yet. The whole reason she'd come out there was that she was sure she was going to, but so far, nothing. 

 

She thought she'd been getting better, that she might've actually been getting over Bellamy. Or, at least, over him getting married. But then she and Murphy had come back down to the bar, finding none of their friends there, and she'd seen him with Echo.

 

They were practically having sex, Murphy had spat. Not that they could really judge, of course. 

 

They looked good together, though, matching each other's movements with ease and looking at one another as if no one else existed. It was wrong, that she had thought about her and Bellamy like that, but the moment she saw them together, it came crashing down around her. That was never going to be her, was never going to be the two of them. She'd known this before, of course. In theory. But seeing it was a whole different thing. 

 

Murphy didn't look much better than she felt, but Jackson and Miller came back over to the bar and ordered another round, which he quickly got in on. They'd invited Clarke too, but she told them she was getting dizzy and needed some air. Murphy made a joke about wearing her out, which she was actually grateful for. She didn't feel like drowning her sorrows in booze at the moment. 

 

How could she have been so stupid as to think that a little casual sex and lame attempts to make him jealous would ever make anything better? Would ever release her from the torture that was loving Bellamy? 

 

When she heard the door open, she said without looking over her shoulder, "Murphy, go bother someone else, alright?"

 

"Not Murphy," Bellamy said, raising his hands in mock defense as he flashed her a sheepish grin, "hope that's okay."

 

"Yeah, that's, uh, that's more than okay," she replied because she _was_ that pathetic. 

 

For a moment, he turned serious, maybe even angry, and asked, "he do something I need to kick his ass for?"

 

She scoffed and shook her head. "No more than usual," he didn't seem convinced, "really, it's nothing."

 

He seemed to want to ask more, but she gave him a look and he accepted that she didn't want to talk about it. Instead, he jumped up onto the stack of pallets and sat beside her. For a moment neither one of them said anything. 

 

When he did, it wasn't exactly what she'd imagined. "Do you think you would've noticed me in high school?"

 

She nearly laughed. "Do you mean would I have been obsessed with you like every other person in the school?"

 

He sputtered at that, "people weren't obsessed with me."

 

She rolled her eyes. "I can hardly believe that," she was teasing him, "I mean, that uniform says it all."

 

Rubbing the back of his neck, he replied, "I was still as much of a nerd as I am now in high school, Clarke."

 

"Maybe," she mused, "but you were a nerd that probably had half the school hitting on him."

 

He didn't have a response to that, which she took as a win. 

 

After a moment, he cleared his throat, "I didn't mean would you have been attracted to me. I meant...I don't know, would you have even acknowledged my existence?"

 

She snorted. "I think it would've been pretty hard to ignore."

 

"From someone like you? Doubt it," and he sounded so sure, she didn't know how to argue how wrong he was. 

 

"Now, me you couldn't have helped but notice," she gestured to herself, "as a complete freak, of course."

 

He laughed at that, which made her brow furrow. 

 

"I wouldn't have thought you were a freak, trust me," he told her. 

 

"Then what would you have thought of me?" She challenged. 

 

He gulped. 

 

"I'll answer when you do," he finally said. 

 

She worked her jaw and knew she would regret this, but he did seem kind of out of it, so, she thought: _fuck it_. 

 

"I would've thought you were arrogant, of course," he laughed at that, "probably a little too smart and good-looking for your own good. Definitely not the kind of person that would help me out if my car broke down on the side of the road, and really, you should've seen the piece of shit I insisted on driving back then, but I don't know," she shrugged, "I think you would've shown me a glimmer of something real eventually and would've grown on me. Like a very nice fungus. Now, your turn."

 

He blinked a couple of times before he replied, "I would've been really intimidated by you," she snorted, but he insisted, "I would've! You were so, I don't know, not trying to be anything that someone else wanted you to be. Still are, really. And I know you said you weren't proud of the person that you were back then, but I think I would've liked you, the same as I do now," he swallowed, and his tone was more joking when he said, "hell, you could've snuck me cigarettes out by the quad, so you know, maybe even more."

 

He was grinning down at her and she shook her head, but she couldn't look away.

 

Fuck, she was definitely looking at him for way too long. She was about to make a joke about it when he admitted, "I won't lie to you, I'm really fucking drunk right now."

 

She couldn't help it, she laughed. At least it broke their staring contest though. Still, a part of her felt just a little bit devastated that his words had been the result of too much tequila and probably weren't the truth.

 

Bumping her shoulder against his arm, she asked, "how drunk are we talking?"

 

He rolled his eyes. "Probably getting to the stage where I will only remember about fifty percent of this night."

 

"Ah," she said, "well, I'm glad you're having fun." With Echo, she thought but didn't say. 

 

"I would've had more fun if you'd been there more," he said. 

 

She had no idea what to say to that.

 

Luckily she didn't have to, because he kept talking, "you know," he inclined his head towards the cigarette in her hand, which she'd completely forgotten about, "my friend who made me quit those told me they're cancer sticks, and shouldn't even exist."

 

Taking a drag from it, she said around the smoke, "your friend sounds a little uptight."

 

"Nah," he replied, "she just worries about me," he coughed, "she worries about all of her friends, I mean."

 

"I'm sorry me and Murphy disappeared for a while," she said.

 

He stiffened a little, but so slightly she barely noticed and figured it could've been anything. Like a breeze or something. It was July, but whatever. 

 

"You guys had fun, though." It wasn't a question. 

 

She nodded regardless.

 

"That's good," he swallowed, and she looked over at him, "I'm happy that you're having fun."

 

"Bellamy," she started to say, but he cut her off. 

 

"I think it's weird, obviously," she laughed at that, she couldn't stop herself, "but I am happy that you're happy. But I do have to admit...I miss you a little."

 

"Why? It's not like I've gone anywhere. Hell," she said, "we still live together, don't we?"

 

"But it's different."

 

"It was always gonna be different after you asked Echo to marry you." Stupid, she told herself. She was actually the stupidest person in the world. 

 

"Yeah," he breathed out, "just not this different."

 

"Harper told me we'll find a new normal."

 

He smiled a little at that, "we should listen to Harper more."

 

At that, she figured they were done talking, so she dropped the cigarette on the ground and jumped off the pallet. She stubbed the butt out with her boot. As she was moving towards the door, he reached out and grabbed her arm. She felt his thumb rubbing her skin through the mesh of her top. Looking up at him, she swallowed, and she knew her bottom lip trembled a little. He didn't say anything, just stared at her in a way he never really had before.

 

"You really _are_ that drunk," she said, and it was meant to be in a teasing tone, but her voice was barely above a whisper. 

 

"I can't lose you," he said, his eyes wide and serious. 

 

"You won't. I promise, okay? I know I've...I know I've bailed in the past when shit got hard, but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, okay? You're gonna be stuck with my dumbass for a long time," the tension she hadn't even noticed he'd been holding in his shoulders relaxed, "now, come on, everyone's probably wondering where we are, and god knows it's only a matter of time before they get into trouble without us around."

* * *

Murphy really hadn't lied when he'd told everyone he was getting belligerent in the group text. He liked to fulfill his promises, alright? Maybe this one had to do exclusively with the fact that Raven and the dick she'd brought with her were still making out on the dance floor, but whatever. At least his word was good. 

 

Jackson and Miller were getting a little bit worried though, he could tell. 

 

"Relax, you guys," he told them after they exchanged a look, "I've been drunker than this before. Remember?"

 

Jackson actually paled a little at the memory. 

 

Miller got out, "yeah, and if you recall, Bellamy and Clarke had to buy a new couch."

 

"Which they _love_ ," he said, "so, really, I did them a favor."

 

They looked at one another again, and he gestured with his glass, "no, no, no. None of that judgemental bullshit here. Clarke brought us all to this scary-ass place so that we could have a good time. That includes you, old men."

 

At being called an 'old man' Jackson crossed his arms, but Miller grabbed another round off of a passing server's tray.

 

The rest of them came over to one of the circular leather couches that had been placed into corners of the warehouse for the party. Anya had come up to them at some point and told them they'd been a bitch to get, but she didn't settle for anything less than amazing. And, he thought, they probably believed you could kill them and hide the bodies if you didn't get what you wanted. 

 

"Where are Lincoln and Octavia?" Miller asked.

 

Harper giggled. It was good to know he wasn't the only one drunk out of his mind. 

 

Monty and Jasper, whose arm was around a grinning Maya's shoulders, looked at one another and burst out laughing. 

 

"Who can say?" Emori asked, plopping down onto the couch and grinning wickedly. 

 

Echo snorted at that, and then picked up one of the drinks and took a sip. "Not bad," she said, "though I have no clue what the hell is in this." She looked around for a second, her brow furrowing, "has anyone seen Bellamy?"

 

Murphy had seen him alright. Following Clarke through the door to the back of the warehouse. Not that he was gonna offer that information up. So, he just shrugged. 

 

"Last time I saw him, you and him were, _you know_ ," he told her. 

 

Echo smirked, which made him vaguely pissed off on Clarke's behalf. He was glad she wasn't there to witness _that_. 

 

"There they are," Miller said.

 

They emerged from the crowd, and really, Murphy made a mental note to talk to her about being so goddamn obvious. She was grinning up at him like he hung the fucking moon and he was laughing at something she'd said. He had his arm slung around her shoulders, which he figured they excused due to the fact that the dude was stumbling a little.

 

She looked over at all of them and shouted, "can we get some water for this one?"

 

Jackson acted quickly and brought over not one, but enough water bottles for everyone. 

 

"Those are horrible for the environment," Bellamy protested as Clarke dropped him next to Echo, who rubbed his arm, but was smiling a little at the ridiculousness of her finacé.

 

She snorted and pushed the water bottle into his hand. 

 

"The Earth is dying, Clarke," he said.

 

"Yeah," Murphy said, "and you will too if you don't drink up."

 

Bellamy shot him a glare but looked back at Clarke, who raised a single brow, and he did as he was asked. 

 

"We all should drink water. A lot of it," Jackson told them. 

 

They made a couple of jeers at him for being such a worry wart, but since they didn't want to end up puking all over Anya's leather couches, they did as they were told. When they finished their first round of water, he got them a second. This one even Murphy didn't protest. 

 

"Raven too," Bellamy said, "we did shots. Many, many shots," he said. 

 

"I'll go get her," Harper offered, but Murphy extended a hand.

 

"I'll do it."

 

She opened her mouth to protest, but he had already started walking towards the dance floor. 

 

She and Whatshisface were still glued together at the mouth and didn't take it too kindly when he not-so-accidentally shoved Shaw a little harder than necessary. 

 

The dude glared at him, but Murphy put up his hands in surrender, "my bad, was just trying to get your attention."

 

He didn't reply, but also no longer looked like he was gonna punch him in the face, so that was a win. 

 

Without looking at Raven, he told the other, "Bellamy says they drank a shit ton earlier. We're all doing a couple of rounds of water, and she should get in on that."

 

"'I'M FINE!" Raven shouted over the music, her arm around Shaw's waist. "Aren't I fine?" She turned to the other. 

 

"You most certainly are," he said, which, _gross_ and _cheesy_ , but whatever, "but Murphy might actually have a point. You and Bellamy were going pretty hard earlier. It might be a good idea to take a break."

 

He couldn't help it, he smirked at her. 

 

She rolled her eyes, but said, "okay," and started marching off in the wrong direction with as much confidence as an insanely drunk Raven Reyes could have, which was a lot. This was not adorable. At all. 

 

Shaw got her turned around though, and they made her drink two and a half water bottles before they even let her stand up again. 

 

Once they were all burgeoning on sober once more, Jackson relented and let them get another round from one of the servers. Clarke was pulled away by Anya, who said she wanted to introduce her to some of her friends from New York, and she agreed but made Bellamy come with her. Maya pulled Jasper out onto the dance floor once more, followed by Harper and Monty and Jackson and Miller. Some guy in a football jersey said something about kicking Echo and Emori's ass, and they immediately got up and went to reclaim their dignity. 

 

Which left him and Raven and fucking Shaw. Murphy wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, but something he did made her laugh. He knew it was pathetic before he even did it, but he was still a little drunk and she was really fucking pretty when she laughed. So, he tugged on one of her pigtails. Like an actual five-year-old. 

 

That got her attention away from Shaw though, and she glared at him, but playfully enough. It also got them tearing into one another once more. It didn't matter that Shaw was watching them, in fact, it kind of made his night. 

 

"Does that eyebrow ring pick up cable, or is just like those three standard channels?" She asked, a lazy grin on her face. 

 

He flicked her glasses. "You borrow those from Barb from  _Stranger Things_?"

 

"Barb deserved better, and you know it," she said.

 

"Don't I," he agreed. 

 

"You finally admitting you cried when we found out she was dead, and that it wasn't just allergies?" 

 

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe."

 

She snapped his fingers. "Ha! I win!"

 

"You didn't win anything," he said, "I admitted to it."

 

"I still win," she replied. 

 

"How?"

 

"Because you admitted to having an actual human emotion."

 

He started laughing at that, and so did she. Of course, Shaw had to ruin it. 

 

"Let's go upstairs," he said. 

 

She turned to look at him as if she just remembered he was there. "Why?"

 

He gave her this totally smarmy look and Murphy almost gagged. 

 

"Oh," said, and grinned.

 

Turning to Murphy, she said, "hate to stop teasing you about actually feeling things, but we're gonna pop upstairs for a bit."

 

"By all means," he said, but even he could hear how cold it sounded, "have fun."

 

"I will," she said, defiant as ever. 

 

Shaw shot him this look over his shoulder as Raven stood up and pulled them towards the stairs but whatever. Fuck that dude. He felt petulant, and a little put-out, and yeah, fucking lonely. But he knew one thing that would make him feel better. So, he drained the last of a Jack and coke and went to find Clarke and Bellamy.

* * *

Bellamy was trying to reign in his awe of Clarke, but it was really fucking hard when she managed to interact with famous artists from New York like they were people from her kindergarten class. 

 

Even in her outfit for the night, which he was definitely still not over, she managed to have a certain grace and ease talking to people she'd never even met before. The only bit that gave him any satisfaction was that he knew she hated it, always had. Especially when it'd been for her mom, and she'd carted Clarke out at campaign events and dinner parties like she was some kind of extension of her staff. When they finished talking to an artist that exclusively used their own body to paint their canvases, she rolled her eyes at him. 

 

"Anya, this is really great, and you know how grateful I am for the new connections, but," she bit her lip. 

 

The taller woman nodded. "I know it's not your thing, but you did really good. Still, feel free to escape while you can."

 

Clarke relaxed at that and grabbed his hand in hers and dove into the throng of people before someone else could demand her attention. He tried to pretend he was breathless because of the alcohol and all the dancing he'd done earlier. 

 

She let out a breath and scooped two drinks off of a server's tray, thrusting one at him. 

 

"Did I act like I was completely obsessed when I was talking to Monroe?" She asked.

 

He scanned the vague memories he'd made in the last half an hour, which really were not all that coherent. The water had helped, but he was still pretty wasted. "Which one was that?" 

 

"The one with the kind of weird hair."

 

He started laughing, "they all had weird hair," he shook his head, "not helping."

 

She laughed too. It was kind of hot in the warehouse, or at least, he felt it was, and her cheeks were pinker than he'd ever seen them, "whatever. The one with the kind of mohawk."

 

"Right," he nodded.

 

"You don't remember, do you?" She asked.

 

He smiled a little.

 

"You are no help!" She said.

 

Not wanting her to spend the rest of the night worrying, he told her, "you were amazing with all of them. Don't worry."

 

It might've just been the flash of a pink strobe light, but he swore she blushed even deeper. He moved a little closer to her without even thinking about it. He was an idiot, really, but he couldn't help it when it came to her. She seemed to take a step towards him too, but it also could've been to get out of the way of someone dressed in a hockey jersey. 

 

"There you guys are," he heard over the music.

 

Like fucking  _Beetlejuice,_ Murphy materialized and snaked a hand around Clarke's waist, kissing the top of her head. 

 

He was doing his best to ignore that had happened when the rest of them showed up.

 

Monty and Harper's clothes were both a little rumpled from all the dancing, and he almost laughed, Jasper had a bit of lipstick on his lips. The color Maya seemed to be wearing, though hers was considerably more smudged now. Jackson and Miller had swapped shirts. Octavia and Lincoln were arm in arm and she was grinning more than he'd seen in months. Shaw was looking pleased with himself, and Raven was tucked into his side. 

 

"You guys ready to head out?" Harper asked.

 

Not looking at Clarke and Murphy, he nodded. 

 

"I think Echo and Emori are just finishing up one more round of beer pong, to claim their crowns and all that, so we can go after that," Miller told them all. 

 

He figured maybe they'd grab another drink or head over to one of the leather couches to wait. Murphy wasn't done though.

 

"How were the assholes?" He asked Clarke, teasing her. 

 

She jabbed him with her elbow, and he pinched her hip.

 

"Murphy!" She said.

 

He didn't even have the decency to look sheepish.

 

She swatted him away, which only made Murphy bring her in closer so he could do it again. 

 

"You're such an ass," she said.

 

But he knew if she was actually pissed about it, Murphy would know.

 

Her insult didn't stop Murphy from doing it again. And again. After that, well, as cliché as it sounded, he understood what people meant when they said they saw red. 

 

When Murphy made a move to pinch her again, he spat out, “stop it, alright? She doesn't like it.”

 

He didn't even want to see how his friends reacted to that. 

 

He looked at Clarke, who appeared to be frozen in place, and then gave him a smirk, "she likes everything I do to her."

 

He hadn't realized he'd shoved Murphy until the other guy spat out, "the fuck?" He was kind of laughing, like he couldn't believe he'd done it, and honestly, neither could he. 

 

So he did it again. 

 

Murphy regained his balance for the second time, and he looked pissed. He figured he'd storm off, and Clarke would kiss his wounds for him, but instead, he got closer and narrowed his eyes.

 

"You've had a lot to drink, Bellamy."

 

He couldn't really argue with that, but he did look over at Clarke. She avoided his eye. 

 

"What's going on?" Echo asked, coming up to them.

 

"Nothing," Clarke jumped in, "Murphy was just being a dick."

 

Echo looked confused for a moment, and then offered him a smirk, "you mean, like always?"

 

Murphy was still kind of in his face, and he shot Echo a look, before turning back to face him, "actually I think the only one being a dick here tonight is Bellamy."

 

"I'm the dick?" He asked. "Really?"

 

He nodded. "Yeah. _Really_." 

 

"Murphy, leave it," but it wasn't Clarke who'd said it. It was Raven. 

 

Bellamy really thought he was gonna get punched in the face, but instead, Murphy said, "whatever," and backed off. "Come on, Clarke. Let's get the fuck out of here." Then he slung an arm around her shoulders and they started to walk out. 

 

She looked over her shoulder at him, kind of sad and disappointed. It made him feel awful. 

 

Echo placed a hand on his arm, but he brushed it off. 

 

"I just wanna get out of here," he said. 

 

She nodded. He could tell she wanted to say something, but he cut her off, "it was nothing. Just stereotypical alpha male shit brought on by too much alcohol, alright?"

 

She smiled a little at that and grabbed his hand. "Okay," she took a breath, "let's get out here, then."

 

When they got back to her place, they did end up having sex, even though she'd made a joke that he was probably too drunk on the way home. If it was more intense and a little rougher than it'd been in weeks, so be it. After she was asleep, and he willed himself to do the same, he told himself over and over that it had absolutely nothing to do with Clarke Griffin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you actually believe these idiots??? me neither tbh and i wrote this. just a heads up, the next chapter is a bit more of a filler in my opinion, especially compared to the monster that was this two-parter, but it does move the story forward, i promise! 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @thatbluedress for more information/updates or to cry about the 100 or the various other things i obsess over!!


	7. I Want You Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god you guys, i am truly blessed to have such amazing readers!! your feedback has made my day, week, year and i am so happy that there are people out there that believe in me and the story i'm telling. i never imagined i would get this kind of response, especially for my first fic, and it's been humbling and wonderful and i am so grateful to everyone who's read this. this one's, in my opinion, a bit more a filler, but we finally get some murphamy and princess mechanic moments, and i think it still moves everything along for our disaster children! just as a warning, there are mentions of drug addiction in this chapter, and i will be adding it as a tag for the story moving forward.

Everyone was trying to act like nothing had happened between Bellamy and Murphy at the party, but Clarke knew it could only last for so long before Jasper and Monty suggested they lock the two of them in a closet or handcuff them together until they made up. It had been two and a half weeks, but the two had barely exchanged four words with one another. Instead, it was a mix of glares and crossing arms and other ridiculous displays of their apparent masculine prowess. The situation not only created one of the most competitive games of _Call of Duty,_ one in which Bellamy killed Murphy even though they were on the same team and then Murphy returned the favor no less than three times, she had ever witnessed, but Miller had assured her that basketball during those two Sundays nearly resulted in a repeat of the events of that night. 

 

Bellamy and Clarke went right to Grounders after work, as he'd insisted on picking her up from the gallery after she'd texted him during her lunch break that her boss, Cage, had been on one of his rampages that day. She'd spent twenty minutes trying to get Maya to calm down, and eventually, let the other leave early, even though it was technically her turn. 

 

She wiped the condensation off of the glass of her beer and tried to figure out the best way to bring up Murphy without completely pissing the other off. 

 

He must've read it on her face though, because, after a moment, he said, "it's nothing, Clarke. Me and Murphy are fine."

 

Tilting her head to the side, she squinted at him. 

 

"What?" He asked, getting defensive even though she'd yet to say anything. "We were barely civil before."

 

She looked down at her beer and sighed, perhaps just a bit dramatically. 

 

"What do you want me to say? That I feel like shit for acting like such a drunk asshole. Fine. I do. That I might miss the ass being on my team at basketball because we actually kind of, but not really, stood a chance with him? Maybe I do. But you know how I don't like," he grumbled out the last part, "admitting I'm in the wrong," he cleared his throat, "if he wants to make it right, he's gotta make the first move."

 

Leaning on the table with her elbows, she folded her hands and placed her chin on top of them. 

 

He pretended to ignore her and took a long sip from his beer. "I know that Murphy will never do that, so, whatever. Maybe we just won't be friends anymore."

 

She made her eyebrows knit together, and did that kitten thing with her eyes she definitely didn't use to get shit she wanted. 

 

"Fuck you, Clarke," she raised her brows at that, and he shook his head. "Fine. I will talk to him, alright? I will have an embarrassing, very un-masculine conversation with  _Murphy_ so we stop acting like we're five. I'll make sure we make things right, okay? If nothing else so that Jasper doesn't implode. You happy?"

 

"Thrilled," she said, at last, taking his beer from him and sipping from it.

 

He made a noise of protest. "You have the same kind!"

 

She shrugged, "yours always tastes better."

* * *

Bellamy couldn't believe that he was doing this, but here he was, at Murphy's place, a six pack under his arm, and waiting for the other to get his ass in gear and buzz him in. 

 

"You bring the chocolates and DVD of  _10 Things I Hate About You_ I requested?" Murphy finally said over the intercom. 

 

He was gonna kill him.

 

"Just let me in, it's hot as balls out here," he said.

 

"I guess chivalry _is_ dead," the other replied, but the buzzer sounded and Bellamy entered the building. 

 

When Murphy threw open the door to his apartment, he accepted the six-pack and grinned. "Maybe there's hope for us yet."

 

It took everything in him to not roll his eyes. 

 

They opened the beers and sat down at the kitchen table, and for a couple of minutes, neither one of them said anything. Bellamy supposed that Murphy was waiting for him to start since he had been the one to request the two, "stopped being little bitch babies," and all. 

 

"I'm sorry I was such a dick at the party. I don't know what was wrong with me," he admitted. 

 

Murphy nodded, "yeah, you were."

 

Bellamy's mouth twisted. 

 

"But whatever, it's not like we haven't gotten into shit before," he said.

 

That made him wince. Before they'd given in and been friends, he and Murphy had been in one hell of a fight, mostly spurred on by his own behavior and temper, which he'd only acknowledge a handful of times. 

 

"Still," he said, "I was a drunk idiot, alright?"

 

Murphy smirked. "Indeed, it was not the soberest or most coherent I have ever seen you."

 

He cleared his throat to go on, but before he could say anything else, Murphy said, "I guess I'm sorry I called you a dick, or whatever."

 

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, but he went on, "I know that I was kind of being an asshole, too, that night."

 

He snorted, and Murphy looked confused.

 

"Clarke get to you, too?" He asked.

 

The other shook his head, and said around his beer, "she looked at me with those fucking kitten eyes, and when that didn't work, she gave me this glare," he made a face and shuddered. 

 

Bellamy laughed a little. "Yeah, she has that effect."

 

Murphy seemed to be debating something, and once he had decided on it, he said, "you know you can't be pissed at us for screwing when you're the one who's engaged." He was pretty sure he gulped in response. 

 

"I know," he said and felt a little more defeated than he'd expected. 

 

For a moment, he thought Murphy was gonna say something else, probably about Clarke, but he just took a sip from his drink instead. 

 

"So we good?" He asked.

 

The other nodded. "We're good."

 

"Damn if I thought you were that easy, I wouldn't have begged Monty to give me his demo copy of the newest game he's been helping develop," Bellamy said.

 

Murphy straightened, "you mean the one with the aliens and those massive bazooka things?"

 

Bellamy shrugged, "yeah, but since you've forgiven me and all..."

 

"Fuck you," he said, "you're just scared I'll kick your ass."  

 

"Please," he snorted.

 

"Then it's on," Murphy told him, picking up the rest of the beers and moving into the living room. 

 

"You're going down," he said, flopping onto the couch. 

 

He didn't want to admit it, but he was glad Clarke forced him to talk to Murphy. While he certainly didn't brag about it, he and the other had been through a lot of shit together, and they  _were_ friends. Maybe he was a pain in the ass about eighty-five percent of the time, but he'd been there for him through everything with O and really, he had a point. He couldn't be pissed at them while he was engaged to Echo. Or at least, couldn't let Clarke and Murphy _know_ that he was pissed. He thought at the very least, he could manage that. 

* * *

_The Delinquent Group Chat_

 

 **Jasper:** did i just...did i just see murphy make a joke and bellamy laugh at it???

 

 **Harper:** shook

 

 **Monty:** oh thank god, i thought i was hallucinating 

 

 **Octavia:** i was right!!! you are high rn!!!

 

 **Miller:** when is he not high tho

 

 **Monty:**  only a little!! and there have been many, many times. perhaps i cant think of any at the moment but i will eventually

 

 **Jasper:** back to my original point!!! MURPHAMY RISES 

 

 **Lincoln:** you gotta stop coming up with ship names for our friends, jasper 

 

 **Emori:** i do have to say, those assholes not looking at each other like they're gonna rip their throats out even warmed my hunk of chest meat 

 

 **Raven:** they're both still idiots, let's not get too excited 

 

 **Jackson:** im glad they clearly did the mature thing

 

 **Echo:** jasper i can hear the sex joke youre about to make. dont.

 

 **Jasper:** *le sigh*

 

 **Murphy:** you assholes know we are in this chat, right?

 

 **Bellamy:** seriously. dont you guys have anything better to do?

 

 **Monty:** not really, no

 

 **Bellamy:**  also, why are you all texting each other when we're all at the fucking park. technology has ruined us all.

 

 **Harper:** dad, please dont get upset and take away our phones! 

 

 **Lincoln:** how am i friends with literal children

 

 **Octavia:** bc you loveeeeeee me

 

 **Bellamy:** what did i say about speaking of such things in this group?????

 

 **Octavia:** cant hear you over the sound of our love

 

 **Clarke:** youre welcome, bitches. i will take thanks in the form of control of selecting the playlists for the rest of the day.

 

 **Raven:** fuck

 

 **Octavia** : oh god, no 

 

 **Clarke:** suck it. teagan and sara until we die everyone. 

* * *

Clarke was giving Raven a ride back from Octavia's idea of fun: a three-hour long hike two hours away from the city. While she liked some good exercise, and she had to admit the views were breathtaking, she was sure her entire body was covered in a not-so-thin layer of dirt. She hadn't made a big deal of it and did her best to conceal it from everyone else, but her leg was killing her. 

 

"How is it?" Clarke asked, her eyes flicking to Raven for a moment.

 

Figures she would've been the one person to have noticed that she was in just a little bit of pain. 

 

She shrugged. "It'll be fine."

 

"We can stop at the hospital when we get back. My dad's name still gives me enough clout that I don't think we would have to wait too long." There wasn't any pressure in the statement though, just concern. 

 

Waving a hand, she replied, "really, it happens sometimes. I'll make an appointment with my physical therapist if it doesn't go away, alright?" The other woman seemed to accept that. 

 

After a moment, she asked, "so, how're things with Shaw?" 

 

"Good," she said, "really good recently." She laughed. It was maybe the farthest thing from the truth. She'd told herself that she needed to do better with Clarke, and yet, here she was, blatantly lying to her friend because she was pretty sure she had feelings for her fuck buddy. Still, she kept going, "I kind of thought our chemistry was sputtering out, but since the party, it feels like it kind of reinvigorated us or something. Honestly," she added, "I was kind of getting annoyed with his face, but now it's a lot better." It wasn't actually, it was...Off, somehow. She was more annoyed by his face than ever and had been fighting against the reason why, but she knew it. Deep down. 

 

Clarke believed it though and started laughing a little.

 

"What?"

 

She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "Annoyed with his face?"

 

She shrugged. "You know what I mean."

 

Something passed over her face, but she just nodded. 

 

Though her and Clarke were obviously still close, she knew they'd drifted apart since late May, after they'd walked in on her and Murphy and it seemed the entire world turned upside down. It wasn't the other's fault, which made Raven vaguely uncomfortable. As if she really had a reason to distance herself from her friend, even though, in light of recent events, she was starting to accept the fact that maybe she did. 

 

They still had another hour to go, and she knew if she couldn't bring herself to have a real conversation with Clarke about it then, she probably never would. 

 

"How're things with Murphy?" She asked, even though she really didn't want to know. 

 

In fact, there were probably ten thousand things about Clarke Griffin she wanted to know more than how things were going between her and Murphy. 

 

When she didn't answer, Raven added, "you can tell me."

 

"It's, you know, it's easy. There's no drama or worrying about each other's feelings or getting caught up in _the moment_. It's nice. I haven't had that in a long time."

 

"How's the sex?" Raven asked because maybe she was becoming a masochist or something. 

 

Clarke blushed a little, and got out, "it's pretty good, I've never really had this kind of relationship before, except kind of with Niylah, but that didn't last as long as this. He's still  _Murphy_ obviously, so take that as you will, but...I've certainly had worse."

 

Raven didn't know if she was supposed to be thrilled or disappointed that the sex wasn't mind-blowing. It was all sorts of wrong, but in the past couple of weeks, she realized she just assumed Murphy had to be good in bed. 

 

When she didn't reply, Clarke eventually added, "sorry, I don't really know how to talk about it with you. I didn't think you wanted to know about this stuff. I actually thought you might still be pissed at both of us, but then I saw how you and Murphy got along, well, got along for you two, at the party and...I figured it might be just me you're pissed at."

 

"I was," she admitted, looking down at her lap, "pissed at both of you. I mean, at first, but I'm not anymore. And I may be kind of a bitch, but I don't think even I'm that much of one that I would only be pissed at you for something the two of you did together." She hated that her voice sounded so defensive. 

 

She stiffened. "Raven...I didn't mean to call you a bitch, or anything like that. I understood why you were angry with us," she doubted that but let her continue, "and I think a part of me believed you had a right to be, kind of still do," she shook her head slightly, "Bellamy and I got into a fight about it. Right when you guys first found out, about how it could ruin everything in the group, and it could turn into a whole Roma Situation...I really am worried about that part. I guess I just want you to know that I _know_ that this whole thing is kind of fucked."

 

Raven snorted. "And you're the one doing the actual fucking," she said. 

 

Clarke laughed at that. "Hell, most days I can't believe I'm doing it." 

 

"So why are you?" She asked.

 

For a while, she didn't think she was going to get an answer. 

 

"Honestly? I think we were both tired of being alone."

 

Raven could understand that with Clarke and Lexa ending around the same time Emori broke things off with Murphy, even though she let him tell everyone it was mutual for some reason. Emori had only let that slip up when she was kickboxing with her and Echo, and she'd sworn them both to secrecy. 

 

"Okay," she replied. "I'm not saying I think it's a good idea or anything. Or hell, that it won't destroy every relationship you have," at that, Clarke chewed on her lip, "but I guess I get it."

 

And when Clarke genuinely smiled, she let herself too.  

* * *

Things were better than they'd been in weeks, Murphy thought as he and Raven teased one another over beers. For some reason, she seemed more relaxed around the group then she'd been in a while, not that he was complaining, or going to point it out and risk her changing her mind. It probably also helped that he and Bellamy were cool again. Things felt lighter, easier between all of them than they had in a long time. 

 

A little part of him also might've thought it had to do with the fact that Echo was working late a lot recently, and Shaw was away at a work conference. Murphy had tried his hardest not to grin too much when Raven told them that night he'd be gone for the week. 

 

Of course, he should've known better than to think a good thing could stay. 

 

"What the actual fuck is _she_ doing here?" Octavia near-shouted, her eyes narrowed at something, or someone, near the entrance. Everyone looked up from what they were doing to see what was the matter. 

 

Murphy saw all the color drain from Clarke, and it was like a puppeteer pulled all of her strings at once. Her entire body went taught from her place besides Bellamy at the pool table. 

 

Standing in the entrance was Abby Griffin, who'd the last time Murphy had seen, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. 

 

"Hi, Clarke," Abby said and swallowed before adding, "I, um, called your work. They said you weren't there, but that you came here after you finished sometimes."

 

He saw Bellamy shift, maybe without even realizing he was doing it, and position himself slightly in front of Clarke. Raven had fixed her face into one of cool dismissal, but he saw how much she was impacted, too. It didn't help that it was a Monday, and no one else was really around, except for the few signature patrons that usually just glared at their group and mumbled about how the neighborhood had gone to shit. 

 

Clarke didn't make a move to go near her mother, so she started coming over to them. Raven, of course, had no problem stepping right in front of her. 

 

"I think you should go, Abby."

 

The older woman barely even acknowledged Raven, though really, she had fucked with her just as much as she had with her own daughter, in the end. 

 

Bellamy had put a hand on Clarke's elbow, and he knew Lincoln was ready to hold Octavia back if he needed to. Old habits died hard, and all that. Especially around people that you hated. 

 

Jackson stepped up next to the two women and added, "I really don't think this is the best time," he looked around, "or the place. I mean, seriously, Abby? You're smarter than this."

 

"Maybe she _was_ ," Raven practically snarled, "wouldn't be surprised if the drugs finally caught up to her on that front, too."

 

Abby flinched. Bellamy whispered something in Clarke's ear, but she acted like she hadn't heard him. She looked up at him, and he nodded slightly, releasing her.

 

She walked over to her mother and flashed a look at her two friends. Jackson gave up quickly and went back over to the booth where Miller was sitting. Murphy saw him rub the other's arm, and he asked him something he couldn't hear. Jackson shook his head. Raven wouldn't budge though. Which he really shouldn't have been surprised by. 

 

Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at Clarke, who was looking at her mother once more. 

 

"Please, Raven," Clarke said.

 

She scoffed and came back over to the bartop, to stand next to him.

 

"I bet you fifty bucks she gives some cliched spiel about how she's clean now and wants to make it right," she whispered, her glare never leaving Abby. 

 

"I know better than to get in on that," Murphy told her, "the last time I bet against you, my ass got burnt."

 

She smiled a little at the memory, but so faint he barely saw. Still, at least it seemed to have calmed her down a little. At least she wasn't looking at Abby like she wanted to re-enact the hunt-down-the-family-and-try-to-kill-them-with-an-ax plot of  _The Shining_ anymore. 

"You look really good honey," Abby said. 

 

Clarke rolled her shoulders back so she was standing a little straighter. 

 

"What do you want?" She asked. 

 

"To make amends," she let her eyes drift over to Raven, then Octavia, "to make amends with all of you." 

 

"Why now?" Clarke's expression was unreadable. 

 

"I'm one year clean," she replied, "I was going to try when I was going through the steps, but...You never answered any of my calls, and I thought maybe it would be better if I waited until I felt sure in myself." 

 

Beside him, Raven shook her head. Even though it wasn't really their thing, and he'd probably fail at it, more than anything, he wanted to sling an arm around her, or take her hand, or make another stupid joke. Anything to release some of the tension she was holding. Or provide an escape from the pain he knew she still felt towards the other woman. 

 

Abby went on, "I know that I was a mess, alright?" That was one word for it, he thought. "But I miss you, Clarke. And I know I probably don't deserve it, and that you have every right to never want to speak to me again, but," she took a breath, "I am your mother, and you will always, always be my daughter."

 

It sounded rehearsed, which it probably was, and he wondered if only he and Raven would see it for what it was: a load of bull. 

 

Clarke didn't, or if she did, she blocked out that part. Shocking all of them, and he saw it register on their faces, she didn't turn away from Abby or tell her to fuck off. She shrank into herself. She looked like she was a little kid lost at Disney World, helpless and scared, but there was something in her eyes too. Hope. Like maybe, she'd just been found by fucking Cinderella or some shit, and that they were gonna get her back to her parents in no time. 

 

In a move that twisted his stomach, she moved closer to Abby, offered the smallest of smiles, and enveloped the woman into a hug. Abby reciprocated immediately. 

 

He risked a glance at Raven. Her bottom lip was trembling, but she turned away so she didn't have to watch the rest of the reunion. This was not going to end well. He knew it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know not much happened in this one, but these dumb dumbs are actual clowns so 'fixing' things and kind of sweeping their shit under the rug, even if it's just for the time being, was needed in my opinion. i can promise more drama will be served, and i'm hoping the payoff will be worth it. 
> 
> i also just want to clarify that i don't hate Abby (i don't hate any of the characters on the show-just think some of them need well-told redemption arcs, but i will admit i don't particularly care for her s6 behavior at the moment) nor do i have a negative opinion of addicts or those who have struggled in the past with addiction (i know many, and most of them are strong, amazing people who i love dearly) but for the purposes of this story, she isn't really seen in a positive light by anyone except Clarke and even that's really complicated because of how i've chosen to interpret their relationship. i hope you understand, and if anyone has any questions or wishes to discuss this with me, i would absolutely love to. again, thank you all so much for reading xx
> 
> find me on tumblr @thatbluedress for updates/more information or just to cry about the 100 with me or the various other things i obsess over!!


	8. You Weren't the Only One that Thought of Us that Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i have completed the final layout for this fic and know how long it's gonna be, and ahhh it's gonna be rather up there, but im so excited for what i have planned and i hope you guys stick with me. i gotta say, i think bellarke reach peak idiots in love for this fic thus far, and even i'm surprised by their dumbassery, still, this is a slow burn, so i hope you're in for some angst! thank you so much for all of the feedback i've received so far, it is truly so humbling and amazing and i am so grateful for each and every one of you that has dedicated time to read it! just know that i read all of your comments, and you guys are amazing!!

Game night was more than a tradition. More than a bit of fun. It was a promise. Created after Jackson graduated from medical school, and Miller and Bellamy only had one year left of their grad programs, no matter how crazy shit got (and yeah, Raven knew just how crazy it'd gotten this summer) as many people as possible would get together and duke it out over numerous board, video, card, or drinking games into the early morning.

 

They purposefully scheduled it on Friday nights, so people had very little opportunity to come up with an excuse. When it had first been established, her and Murphy had bet that it would last a month, maybe, but somehow, it had remained a staple in all of their lives. Sometimes they lost one or two people, but they were always given shit for it the next week. As their group was particularly attuned to giving one another shit, one hardly ever wanted to miss a week. 

 

Raven brought the whiskey. Every week. Without fail. Murphy made most of the food, though Jasper and Monty had claimed the title of Snack Kings. Harper did the wine. Miller brought beer, and even lowered himself to buying the "crap" that Octavia drank, though insisted on not purchasing it from the liquor store nearest his house because: "what would they say if they saw me buying that stuff?"

 

Bellamy and Clarke provided the space and the games. Their game collection was, in their words, "the most impressive known to mankind," which Raven thought was bull, but knew better than to try and argue against the two of them. 

 

After Abby's unexpected reintroduction into their lives, Raven had needed a break from everyone to cool off. She'd even skipped game night that week because she couldn't bring herself to be surrounded by the collateral. Octavia's cursing the woman with venom and Bellamy's hatred simmering just beneath the surface while trying not to offend Clarke.

 

But she and Clarke had exchanged a few texts, and the other had assured her that just because she had decided to make a tentative space for her mother in her life, it didn't mean that Raven had to. They were nice words, at least. Still, she didn't trust the other woman and was waiting for her to either relapse or reveal to Clarke that she had some kind of ulterior motive. Game night was the first time she'd seen them since Abby'd walked into Grounders. 

 

When she and Shaw arrived, almost everyone else was already there, except Echo, who had a stomach bug. Bellamy had texted the group that he was going to stay with her, but it was met with such outrage that she ended up saying it was better if they only had to sacrifice one of them that week, and he gave in. 

 

"Look who's still alive! Reyes and Whatshisface! I want you to know that I did have Liam Neeson on speed dial in case we found out you'd been kidnapped," Murphy announced. 

 

"Yeah, and if it isn't my favorite Court Jester," she shot right back, "and update your references, old man."

 

He smirked at her, and she tried to ignore the fact that, yeah, he was kind of hot when he did that. He probably knew it too, which only made it worse. 

 

Shaw waved awkwardly at the group and merely said, "hey guys," which was met with less enthusiasm than she'd like from her friends.

 

Though he'd been coming to game night for almost five months, and they'd been dating for over twice that amount, he had yet to blend in with the ease that Echo and Emori had when they'd been brought it. Raven dismissed this as the fact that he was a dude. The guys in the group, even the gay ones, were probably just more territorial than they let on. On the way over, she'd told Shaw to just relax and fire a few insults at them, and everything would be fine. He'd just nodded and fiddled with his cross absentmindedly. 

 

She set down the whiskey and took a bite out of one of the mini cheesecakes Murphy had brought. Fuck him, they were delicious.

 

"So," she said, "what're we playing first?"

 

"We decided to mix it up this week," Jasper said, practically bouncing on his heels.

 

"Which means," Monty added, "no board games this time around. We're trying to keep everyone on their toes."

 

Raven raised her brows a little at that. 

 

"They're still licking their wounds from me and Bellamy crushing them at Settlers of Catan," Clarke said from her spot on the sectional. She flashed a grin at the other.

 

He returned her smile. "What we have can't be taught. I did warn them that they didn't want to play teams, after all."

 

"Whatever. We'll see you say that after we kick your asses tonight," Octavia said, taking a seat. 

 

Raven grabbed a beer for herself and Shaw, and said, "now that sounds like a plan."

 

They settled into two rounds of poker (much to Jasper and Murphy's disappointment, no one was drunk enough to add stripping as part of the deal), then one of hearts, and then a game each of rummy and shithead. Jackson begged them to play bullshit because he'd really been working on his lying face, but it didn't do him any good. He lost tremendously. Twice. Murphy won both times. 

 

"I am the King of Bullshit," he proclaimed. 

 

"Fitting, and finally the king of something," Raven said, "how will you celebrate your life goals coming true?"

 

"Oh, I can think of a couple of ways," he said and pulled Clarke into his lap and kissed her.

 

Jasper started singing, "Clarke and Murphy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," at that, but then Miller cut in and said, "I think you mean, F-U-C-K-I-N-G."

 

Octavia looked knowingly at Lincoln, Emori rolled her eyes, and Raven did her best to ignore the tightness in her throat. 

 

"New game!" Bellamy proclaimed, and she'd never been so thankful for him in her life. 

 

Clarke untangled herself from Murphy, though Raven wondered if it really had to take her as long as it did. 

 

"Truth or Dare," Octavia said, a smirk playing across her lips. 

 

Bellamy gave her a look, but she rolled her eyes and added, "and I promise, I won't dare Murphy to drink a weird fancy bottle to see if it's liquor or perfume."

 

"That was some pretty good perfume, though," Murphy said, and shrugged, "didn't even realize it wasn't booze until after it was all gone anyways."

 

Raven snorted and shook her head, "that doesn't help your cause in any way, you know that right?"

 

He flashed her a smile and she hoped her cheeks didn't look as pink as she feared they did. 

 

They moved the coffee table so it was against the far wall of the room and moved off the couch so they could get into a more tight-knit circle.

 

"Didn't realize we were all still in fucking middle school," Lincoln grumbled, but Octavia kissed him on the cheek, which Bellamy made a face at, and he shut up about it. 

 

 "Someone come at me," Harper proclaimed, "either one," perhaps a little drunker than Raven had seen her in a while. 

 

"Easy. And I pick truth," Emori said, "what's the weirdest thing you've done in the bedroom?" 

 

At that, Monty blushed and avoided everyone's eye, but Harper grinned. 

 

"Oh, please," she replied, "I'm not even ashamed of _that,_ and really, it wasn't even all that weird. Besides, that gold bikini is a lot more comfortable than it looked in the movie."

 

That got everyone laughing.

 

Clarke wryly asked, "you think you could put that on sometime during 'girl time'," and winked, which made everyone laugh even harder. 

 

Jasper gave Monty a fist bump, who to his credit, was still blushing, but at least wasn't interrogating his lap anymore. 

 

"My go," Bellamy grinned, and looked at Miller, who started to shake his head, but he'd already said, "I dare you to shotgun one of O's beers."

 

Miller made a face that actually resembled pain, and Jackson patted him on the shoulder, "I believe in you," he said to his boyfriend. 

 

They moved to the kitchen for a moment to witness it. Miller flipped them all off and told Bellamy, "see you in hell," and then he chugged the beer. They all cheered when he finished, and he shuddered and looked as if he'd have nightmares about it. 

 

"Such a baby," Octavia said, "really, they're pretty good."

 

Not even her brother backed her up. 

 

Jackson had to tell everyone he'd seen the movie  _When Harry Met Sally_ fifty-two times and Lincoln looked triumphant, but a little less so after the other told him, "I do know how to slice the carotid artery in such a way that would have you bleed out in seconds, right?"

 

Octavia narrowed her eyes at Clarke, who said, "give it your best shot. Truth."

 

The other smirked and asked, "have you and Murphy ever had sex in the bathroom of Grounders?"

 

Clarke went still and glared at Murphy, who started shaking with quiet laughter, and Raven drained her beer, even though it was half full. 

 

"You little shit," she said, "you already know that we have."

 

Octavia considered this for a moment, "just wanted confirmation."

 

Jasper and Monty look offended. Jackson shuddered. Miller glanced at Bellamy for a moment when he thought no one was paying attention. Shaw raised his brows at her, and she did her best to plaster a look of disgust and yet vague apathy on her face. 

 

Eventually, Jasper sputtered out, "you tainted our sacred place? How could you?"

 

Murphy rolled his eyes, smirked at Clarke, and then told everyone, "what can I say? My girl likes to do it in public places."

 

This was met by a mix of grimaces and them all pretending to gag. Raven felt like she was going to be sick. It wasn't the fact that he and Clarke had done it at Grounders that was making her uncomfortable. Although, it really didn't help matters. Rather, it was the fact that Murphy had just called Clarke _his girl_. Like it was nothing. Like he'd done it a million times before. Even though, as far as she knew, he hadn't. She didn't think it was like that. 

 

She figured Clarke would be sure to tell them all that and shoot a glare at him in the process, but she just narrowed her eyes and said, "whatever. At least I'm not the one with a French maid kink."

 

Was it just her imagination or did Murphy look over at her before he looked back at Clarke and said, "didn't hear you complaining while you were wearing it."

 

Now she knew she was gonna be sick. 

 

When she and Clarke had talked about Murphy, it sounded like the sex was pretty standard. Maybe even a little vanilla, but now she knew more than she ever wanted to know about their sex life, and she was finding it near impossible to not let it get to her. 

 

They played a couple more rounds, but everyone was much more tentative with their dares and truths after that. Raven figured they'd all dismiss it as trying to avoid the Clarke and Murphy of it all as much as possible, not that she wasn't grateful, of course. But now that she knew glimmers of what they'd done together, she felt she wanted to know everything. It probably meant she'd gone full masochist, but that didn't seem to matter. 

 

"You guys are pussies, asking each other shit you already know. I think we need to up this shit," Emori said, with a glint in her eye. 

 

Monty grinned. 

 

"Never Have I Ever, Never Have I Ever, Never Have I Ever," Jasper started chanting, quiet after first but building on the volume as he went. 

 

"Absolutely not," Clarke said, shaking her head. 

 

" _Mom,_ " Jasper whined.

 

"You heard her," Bellamy said, gesturing with his beer. He grinned at Clarke, "listen to your mother."

 

Jasper groaned and looked at Monty, "and to think, Dad used to be the fun one."

 

At that, Bellamy delicately placed a hand over his chest, and Clarke fired back, "you're grounded."

 

Shaw looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Relax," she told him, "they've done this before, remember?"

 

"Yeah, it's still weird," he said.

 

She laughed, "I know," but she didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but she felt vaguely insulted by the comment and decided that he wasn't going to get any when they went back to her place.

 

Jasper, meanwhile, had started chanting again for Never Have I Ever. Then Monty joined in. And Emori and Harper. And finally, Murphy said, "fuck it," and started in on it too. 

 

Clarke buried her head in hands, before huffing out, "fine, alright! You gremlins win! We will play," she let out a breath, "Never Have I Ever." Everyone cheered, including Raven. Sue her, the whiskey felt warm in her belly, and she was letting herself enjoy the moment. 

 

Since she had allowed them to play the game, Clarke argued that she got to go first, which everyone agreed was fair enough. "Never have I ever...woken up with a penis or ass drawn on my face," she said. 

 

All of the guys drank at that, and so did Octavia. "My friends before you guys were dicks," she said, waving a hand. 

 

Bellamy made a face at that since it was those people that had been part of the very reason they hadn't spoken for so long. As well as her dealings with Abby. As much as Octavia had to work on herself and her relationships with all of them due to her own behavior and decisions, a big part of the reason she'd gotten to that place in the first place had been because of Clarke's mother. 

 

Monty quickly jumped in with the fact that he had never been straight, which did make Raven drink. 

 

Clarke raised a brow at her, and said, "oh, really?"

 

That got everyone's attention, particularly Murphy's, who was looking back and forth between the two women. 

 

Raven shook her head. "Drunkenly making out with girls in a club in Paris when I was visiting you during study abroad doesn't count. I was technically still figuring everything out, but...I'm definitely straight, unfortunately," she finished. 

 

The other seemed to accept this, though of course, Murphy added, "you, uh, got any evidence of you 'figuring everything out'?" There was a glint in his eye that made her want to punch him.

 

She snorted. "You're such a pig. Besides, even if I did, like I'd ever show you."

 

He raised his hands in surrender, "was worth a shot."

 

Shaw had tensed considerably beside her, and though she had decided not to check, he was probably glaring at Murphy. Served him right, she thought, though she was more entertained than anything else. 

 

"My go!" Emori claimed. She tapped her chin in pretend thought, something in her eyes flashed, and she grinned at Murphy, who to his credit, gulped a little. "Hmmm. Never have I ever...Had a threesome," she shrugged, "go foursomes or go home."

 

"Fuck you," Miller shot and then clinked his beer against Jackson's and drank. 

 

"How is this one even playable?" Bellamy asked, but he got a little queasy looking when Octavia took a long sip from her can of beer. 

 

When Jasper drank, everyone paused in disbelief. 

 

"What?" He asked, his voice getting a little higher, the way it did when he was offended. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm an adult man in my late twenties. Of course, I've had a threesome."

 

Eventually, everyone had taken a drink, except Emori. And Murphy.  

 

Clarke crinkled her nose, "foursomes for you too, I assume." She swayed a little bit from her spot next to him.

 

He clenched his jaw. Raven got it first, and while she wanted to make a joke, she somehow...Didn't. 

 

"Wait, you've had group sex before, right?" Clarke asked. When Murphy said nothing and refused to look at her, she kept going, "I mean, _Jasper's_ had group sex before." She was blinking rapidly at him, and his expression had turned stony. "Oh, shit, sorry," she muttered, "I, honestly, I can't believe it. I mean, do you _want_ to have one? It's cool if you don't, you know."

 

"Well," he gestured, "you know, of course, I want to have one, but it's...Whatever. Who cares. Let's move on." 

 

Raven was totally on board with that, but Clarke just couldn't let it go. She shook her head, but after a moment, she got a mischievous grin on her face. She didn't even want to know what that meant. 

 

She must've had more than Raven thought, because she proudly proclaimed in front of everyone, "we're gonna have a threesome for your birthday," and then she settled back into her seat and took a sip from her beer as if she'd just suggested they grab a burger for dinner tomorrow.

 

Murphy gave her a wolfish grin. "Do I get to pick with who? Cause Anya's hot."

 

Clarke raised a brow, "you couldn't handle Anya. She comes with way too many toys. Your brain would explode. Besides, it's a  _present_ , you can't make demands on it."

 

He raised his hands in surrender, "fine, but if you want suggestions I've got a whole list ready to go."

 

She laughed and shoved his shoulder. It was August. Murphy's birthday was at the beginning of October. Raven swallowed, she hadn't imagined Clarke and Murphy lasting. But it had worked out for them so far, so what was stopping them from continuing? She glanced at Bellamy, who's jaw was working so hard she wondered if it was possible for it to fall off. 

 

No one really knew what to do with that, but luckily, Harper was ready to save them all. She did shoplifting, and everyone gushed about what a good citizen she was, and things fell into an easy pace after that. 

 

Things were winding down, mostly because they were running out of booze, and Raven was about to make an excuse so she and Shaw could bail. It was never that easy to escape game night, though.

 

"I claim the last round!" Jasper announced, and everyone rolled their eyes but grumbled approval.

 

"You better make it a good one," Bellamy said. 

 

Jasper actually winked at him and grinned widely. "Never have I ever," he stuck out his pointer finger, "had a thing for Bellamy Blake."

 

Octavia wrinkled her nose in disgust and shook her head. But everyone else laughed at that, because, well, who hadn't? Still, Raven drank first, which made Shaw twitch, even though he already knew the story. Then Miller, which made Bellamy smirk, and say, "aw, bro, I had no idea you were in love with me all those years ago," which just made Miller flip him off. Emori and Monty drank too. They looked at each other and shrugged. Bellamy was blushing like crazy at this point, all the way up to his ears, but that was nothing compared to the face he made when Clarke drained a shot she'd poured herself when no one was looking.

 

For a moment, everyone just stared at the two of them. 

 

Octavia's mouth hung open for a second before she seemed to remember where she was and closed it. Monty's eyebrows had risen so far into his hairline she couldn't even see them anymore. Harper was staring aggressively at a throw pillow so as to avoid anyone's eye. 

 

And then Jasper fucking whisper-shouted, "oh my god, Monty. It's happening."

 

Clarke looked petrified. Probably because of the look Bellamy was giving her. And suddenly, she was happy Echo had the stomach bug. 

 

"What?" She asked, and Raven could tell she was trying to play it off like it was nothing. 

 

Bellamy's brows knit together. It took him a moment before he said anything, and when he did, it wasn't much. "When?"

 

She waved a hand, "around Halloween, a couple of years back, right when things with Gina ended," she laughed nervously, "oh, come on, you _so_ knew."

 

He shook his head slowly.

 

Jasper was somehow still talking. "He didn't know, Monty. He didn't know," he said, hitting his friend in the chest with the back of his hand. 

 

Clarke got this expression on her face that would've been hilarious in any other situation. It was as if she had stuck a paper clip into an electrical socket. Now it just made Raven think of the huge mess this was going to create, and how emotions were probably the worst thing to ever happen to humankind. Or at least this friend group. 

 

Murphy drained his beer and had the guts to do what she didn't. He stopped the shit fest before it could get any worse. "Hey, Clarke, can you come help get another round for everyone?"

 

She tore her eyes away from Bellamy, and hell, Raven wondered if it didn't pain her to do it, and nodded, following him out of the room. Before anyone could do or say anything, Raven was up, though albeit a little unsteady, and was pulling Bellamy out onto the patio. 

* * *

Clarke was going to cry. She felt it coming. She knew it was coming. All this time. Years. She'd spent years thinking she'd made a tentative move, and been rejected, and Bellamy had been so polite he didn't say anything. Now she knew that was horseshit. He had never known, didn't remember Halloween. Or, at least, not how she remembered it. 

 

Murphy gripped her shoulders. "Okay, so that was...Really, really bad, I gotta admit. But I need you to pull it together."

 

She blinked away the tears that were beginning to form and took a shaky breath. "Okay," she said, but her voice didn't sound so sure. 

 

"You can get out of this without totally ruining your life or sacrificing what little dignity you have left, but it's gonna require a lot, a lot of bullshit. You think you can do that?" Murphy asked. 

 

She smiled a little bit through her tears, "well, I happen to know the King of Bullshit very well, and I'm betting he has a plan."

 

He grinned at her. "You bet your ass I do."

* * *

Bellamy leaned against the fence of the patio and let out a breath.

 

"I really, really wish I hadn't quit smoking," was all he said for a couple of minutes. 

 

Raven swallowed. "It was a really long time ago," she said. A part of her felt she had to warn him: don't get your hopes up. 

 

He nodded, "years."

 

"And you're engaged," she reminded him.

 

"Fuck," he said, and kicked one of the patio chairs. He looked up at Raven, but it took him a while to say anything. "What do I do?" 

 

She shook her head.

 

"Raven, I can't even think. I don't know what to say or do or how to get out of this without losing everything. I need you to tell me what to do," he practically begged. 

 

She swallowed and made a decision that might, fuck it, _was_ definitely going to hurt at least one of the people she cared most about in this world. But it was the smart decision, she thought. The one that would result in the least amount of casualties. "You talk to her, explain that no matter what, you'll always be friends, and then you go to Echo. To your _fiancé_."

 

He seemed to be able to accept that, even if there was a bit of hesitation there. He swallowed, "alright," he sighed, "alright."

* * *

When Clarke and Murphy finally emerged from the kitchen, Jasper was being hauled up by Miller. "Don't worry," he said, "we're all walking or getting Ubers." She nodded, though, if she was being honest, she hadn't been thinking about that. 

 

Murphy squeezed her shoulder. "Remember the plan?" He asked once everyone was gone. Everyone except Raven and Bellamy. 

 

She nodded. "I can do this," she murmured, mostly to herself. 

 

Opening the patio door, she almost ran into Raven. "Sorry," she said, stumbling back a step. 

 

"No worries, I'll just um, I'll help Murphy clean up," Raven said. Clarke couldn't look at her for long. There pity evident was in her eyes. No fairytales here, she told herself. 

 

"Thanks," she said, and the other just nodded. 

 

Bellamy was sitting in one of the chairs, so she took the one opposite him, instead of one of the ones beside him. Better to send a clear message right away. 

 

"I'm so sorry about that, Bellamy," she said, her voice thick. "I, um, I need to explain...What that was," she said.

 

He licked his lips and then nodded. "Okay." One very awkward moment later, he added, "so, you gonna explain sometime this year or?"

 

She laughed at that, grateful for his ability to soothe even the tensest of situations, and he laughed a little too.

 

Letting out a breath, she said, "when I drank, it was because...Well, I did have something of a thing for you. That Fall after I came back from my semester and summer in Paris," _okay, Griffin, now it was time to lie your ass off_ , she told herself, "but I don't feel that way about you anymore. I mean, you're important to me, of course. You're my best friend," her voice held too much, and she reeled it back, "and I really don't want to ruin things between us, you know, it's just...I did like you. Like that," she cleared her throat to go on, "but I haven't felt that way in years, okay? So, there is zero need for there to be any weirdness or anything like that. I just...Can we chalk this up to drinking too much and Jasper being Jasper?"

 

She stared at him as evenly as she possibly could, and watched as his mind worked. Please, she thought, please don't let me lose him over something as stupid as a game of Never Have I Ever. 

* * *

Bellamy was outside, but he felt claustrophobic. As if the fence of the patio was closing in around them, really, around him. Clarke seemed a million miles away, though if he extended his arm, he could probably touch her. The thought was dangerous, and one that he quickly squashed. Especially since she was telling him that she hadn't wanted him the way he'd always, shamefully, wanted her, in years. 

 

When he'd seen that she'd taken that shot, there was no one else in that room. Hell, there might as well have been no one else on the planet. She'd looked so scared, and he'd wanted to make it go away, to make her see that she had no reason to be. But of course, when he came back to his senses after Raven had dragged him outside, he knew he couldn't do that.

 

Now he knew that it wasn't even needed. Clarke had been scared because she didn't want to lose his friendship. Which she shouldn't have been. Not only would he not let that happen, but he was also fairly certain he could no longer exist in a world where she wasn't a part of his life. 

 

As her words registered, he recognized the tightness in his throat, the inability to swallow, and the feeling as if someone had his heart in their hand and were squeezing it until it threatened to turn to dust. It seemed only Clarke had the ability to bring these feelings out, and he knew it made him terrible, but he found himself disappointed that she wasn't admitting to him that she still liked him in that way. 

 

It was fucked and selfish and all kinds of wrong, to want her to feel that way about him while he was engaged, while he fully planned to tell her that he could only ever be her friend. He prided himself on being a good friend if nothing else, and wanting that from her definitely did not make him a good friend. Maybe he shouldn't have been considered a friend at all.

 

A small part of him protested this though, and even if he didn't want, and also couldn't, admit to himself that it was the truth, it was. If Clarke had told him she still liked him, he didn't think there were enough competent and well-thought-out plans and good-intentioned advice from Raven Reyes to make him able to deny telling her how much he wanted her. 

 

He realized she was waiting for some kind of response, a reassurance. While it wasn't the truth, he figured he at least owed her that. 

 

He swallowed, before saying, "it's alright, really. I mean, it might be a little awkward for a week or so, I'm not gonna lie," she winced at that. A little voice in his head chanted at him: Liar, liar, liar. He went on, "but I care too much about our friendship, about you," he paused, "to let something that happened years ago ruin it. It'll be okay, Clarke. I promise."

 

The tension in her shoulders went out at that, and she nodded slightly, allowing a small smile to grace her lips. He didn't think he'd done a great job of convincing her, but it was as much as he could manage, given the circumstances. 

 

"Thank you, Bellamy," she said, she was blinking a lot, as if she was trying not to cry, "just thank you, for being so...You."

 

He felt the tips of his ears go a little pink at that and hoped she didn't notice. It appeared she didn't, but since Murphy, she'd been so hard for him to read.

 

"Well, I tried my hardest to be Miller, but the beer he drinks is far too pretentious for even me," he said. 

 

That made her laugh, which of course made him laugh. She moved chairs, so she was in the one closest to him. Outside didn't seem so bad anymore. It took them a little bit, but they fell into easier things to discuss. Like how he'd already started on lesson plans for his AP students and the asshole intern at the gallery that she was sure she was going to murder before the summer ended. It felt right between them, and as much as he hated lying to her, he couldn't bring himself to regret the result. 

* * *

Raven had finished gathering the beer bottles and cans and emptied the last couple into the recycling bin. Murphy was drying off the last wine glass. When he was finished, he draped the dishrag delicately across the sink (which he knew she would think he was a dork for doing, but whatever) and then turned around so he was facing her, and leaned against the counter. 

 

For a moment, they just stared awkwardly at the floor together, and then he let out something that sounded awfully like a snort, which got her laughing, just a little, and then they were both cracking up. It was probably the booze and the stress of the entire evening, but soon, she was wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard. 

 

"Can we ever just hang out without it turning into a teen drama?" She asked.

 

He scoffed. "I think you're asking a little too much of our friends, Reyes."

 

"Probably," she said, "but I really don't think I am."

 

At that, he raised both brows and nodded. "Yeah, you're really not."

 

That started them on a fresh round of laughing. 

 

After a moment, she inclined her head towards the door that led outside and asked, "what do you think is gonna come from this?"

 

He gave her an incredulous look. "Honestly? Nothing. They're Bellamy and Clarke, and god knows they're idiots, but they're idiots that can't live without each other, and they'll find a way to pretend none of this happened and move on."

 

He didn't feel like it was worth mentioning that he and Clarke had spent fifteen minutes developing a little speech for her to give, one that would hopefully crush any possibility of a complicated situation between the two. Well, three, if you counted in Echo. Maybe four if you included himself, but then Raven would have to be as well, and then it really sounded like a teen drama. 

 

She swallowed and nodded, but didn't seem too convinced. He wondered what she and Bellamy had talked about outside. He hoped it wasn't something about Bellamy confessing his undying love for her. Because that would definitely be awkward. 

 

"You do have a point," she said.

 

Something dawned on her, and she muttered, "oh, shit."

 

He felt a little more triumphant than he should've allowed himself. "You just realize now that you completely forgot about Boy Wonder?"

 

It thrilled him, if he was being honest, that she'd been too busy laughing with him to remember her boyfriend. And yes, it did help to never refer to him by name in her presence, thank you very much. 

 

"Shit," she said, and then pulled out her phone and typed something out. Probably some lame apology text. 

 

"If he's pissed, he's a jackass," he said before he could stop himself. 

 

She rolled her eyes. "I just left him."

 

"Yeah," he said, "in a room full of people that he's known for like nine months. He's not an infant."

 

She seemed to accept that a bit more. "I know," she said, running a hand through her ponytail, "but you know as well as I do that he doesn't really feel comfortable yet."

 

"And who's fault is that?" He asked. It pissed him off that Raven was blaming herself for a guy not fitting in with their friends. That was on him, not her. 

 

She raised a single brow at him. "Well, maybe it would help if _someone_ actually managed to call him by his name once in a while."

 

He scrunched up his nose, "what kind of name is Shaw anyways? I mean, does the dude even have a first one?"

 

She shook her head, but there was the beginning of a smirk on her lips, he could tell. Usually, he believed he was less pathetic than Clarke. With all the staring and 'casual' arm touches and the other bullshit that she did that she had convinced herself was platonic. Recently though, he was starting to wonder if he wasn't as much of a nerd as her when it came to Raven Reyes' smirk. 

 

He looked down for a moment, swiping with the dishrag at some little wine spill on the counter. When he glanced back up at her, she was staring at him funny. Like he was one of the pieces of crap bikes she worked on in her spare time when she wasn't being BECCA tech's Engineer of the Year (both in 2017 and 2018 and she was robbed in 2016).

 

"What?" He asked, his voice a little quieter and not at all as snarky as it usually was. 

 

She chewed on her lip and then shook her head a little. "It's late," she said, and he hoped she didn't see him deflate a little, "I should probably get Bellamy over to Echo's and then get home myself."

 

He nodded, which, he was very proud of himself he could still do after receiving that look from her and then such a quick dismissal. "Right."

 

Once, he'd been in a Go-Cart accident when Clarke had made him ram into a stack of hay ('You were in my way!' she'd said later) and he'd gotten a slight case of whiplash. Talking to Raven lately felt a lot like that. 

 

They went out to the patio together. "You think we should knock this time?" He asked.

 

She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You're vile, Murphy."

 

"Yeah, yeah," he said, yanking open the door. 

 

There was no reason to knock though because just as he had predicted, they were acting as if nothing had happened. Clarke was sitting in the chair to Bellamy's right, but they were both leaning towards one another so much there was barely any space between them. They were both laughing about something and didn't even notice them for a moment. 

 

"Look, not to bum everyone out, but I'm gonna turn into a pumpkin soon if we don't get out of here," Raven said.

 

Clarke looked over at them and then back at Bellamy and nodded. "Echo's sick. You should go be with her," she said. 

 

Bellamy seemed to hesitate for a moment, but eventually, he stood up. "You're right."

 

They followed them out, where Raven grabbed her messenger bag. Bellamy stuck his hands in his pockets. They both paused by the door. Oh, he thought, they were waiting for him. 

 

Murphy glanced at Clarke, who shrugged. "I'm actually gonna stay here," he said.

 

Bellamy stared at them for a moment, but finally just said, "cool."

 

"Oh," Raven's voice was flat, but she recovered so quickly he almost didn't notice it, "of course," she rolled her eyes, "duh."

 

The second they were gone, he and Clarke collapsed onto the sectional.

 

"Wanna have sex?" She asked. 

 

"Not really," he admitted.

 

"Me neither," she replied, her voice quiet and sad, "wanna watch a reality tv show where people beat the shit out of each other dressed in alien and cowboy outfits?"

 

"That's a show?" He asked.

 

"Oh, you bet your ass it is," she said, and grabbed the remote, flicking through the channels until they got to the right one. 

 

The show was, objectively, the best thing he'd ever seen. 

 

Even though he didn't feel like it, he was laughing, and Clarke was too. For a moment, he allowed himself to entertain the idea that he could actually have non-friendship feelings for her. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? He imagined it for a second, and yeah, it wasn't all that bad.

 

Then he thought about the look on her face when she'd been laughing with Bellamy out on the patio, and he was sure of it. She was never gonna feel that way about him. Maybe this should've upset him on some level, but then Raven's smirk popped into his head, her laugh, too, and the face she made when she was concentrating on a new project and hadn't figured it out all the way yet, and he knew. He was in the same goddamn sinking ship.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. raven's finally figuring her shit out, and at least clarke and murphy have each other, right?
> 
> find me on tumblr @ thatbluedress for more updates/information or just to cry about The 100 or various other tv shows and books with me!


	9. Sugar, We're Goin Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry i didn't get this up yesterday lovelies, but i really needed a break day i think?? 
> 
> regardless, i am so amazed by the response i've gotten from you guys!! i am literally smiling like a damn fool at all of your comments and kudos. i know this is a bit of a strange concept, and that i am definitely dragging things out for you guys, but i hope to deliver and not let y'all down. i completely understand your concerns, but rest assured, i have a plan for this fic, and i'm really hoping you guys trust me enough to continue to go on this ride with me as i love you all so damn much!! 
> 
> just as a warning, the first half of this chapter is kind of heavy and focuses on what happened between Abby and the group. it deals with issues of addiction and might be slightly triggering for some people, but i did my best to keep it from it getting to be too much while still telling the story the way i feel it needs to be told. 
> 
> again, thank you thank you thank you for being such amazing readers, and please enjoy!

Clarke's mother was a lot like fight club. Everyone knew what had happened, but they acted like they didn't. And they especially didn't talk about it. As far as Bellamy knew, no one had had a conversation about it and decided that they needed to do that. He supposed that in light of everything that went down, they'd all just collectively understood that it was for the best. Things were a lot easier that way. 

 

For almost two years, including the time he and O didn't speak, Clarke didn't so much as mentioned her mother. In the beginning of O's reintegration into the group, she had spewed the occasional insult about the woman, but as she worked on herself with a mixture of therapy and anger management classes, she eventually stopped talking about her entirely. After a while, it almost felt like Abby was dead. 

 

But she certainly wasn't. Not anymore. Not since Clarke had decided to give her a chance to be a part of her life. Over a very awkward text exchange, she told everyone, but especially Raven and O, and by extension himself, that she wouldn't talk about her if they didn't want her to. She made it clear that she didn't expect them to extend the same courtesy as she did. They had existed in this strange new dynamic for almost a week, but he knew it couldn't last as it was much longer. 

 

If Bellamy was being honest, he didn't like the fact that Clarke was letting her back in, and hadn't forgiven her for what she'd put her daughter through. Abby didn't deal with the collateral when she had disappeared for two weeks, only to show up at his and Clarke's door, strung out and in desperate need of a fix. She hadn't held Clarke's hand when they shipped her off to rehab for the second time. She hadn't dealt with reporters coming to their door, asking them questions even they didn't have the answers to. He had.

 

While he knew O had to take responsibility for her own actions, and now did, most of the time, he knew his sister still carried around a lot of guilt for who she'd become after getting involved in Abby's world. 

 

But he also knew Clarke would need someone she could talk to about her mother and the steps they were taking to repair what they could of the relationship, and that she would never risk taking the first step. So, one night when they were watching _Wonder Woman_ for maybe the fifth time, he went for it. 

 

"I know you said you were fine with not talking about your mom to us, but I want you to know that you can talk about her to me," he said. 

 

She was in the middle of shoveling a handful of popcorn in her mouth, so maybe he hadn't chosen the perfect moment. It took a while, even after she finished the popcorn, for her to reply. 

 

"I don't want to make you upset. I know you're not her biggest fan." Understatement of the year, he thought. 

 

"That may be true," he said, "but she's still your mom. It's okay that you're speaking to her again, that you've decided she might be worth having as a part of your life. I've been where you are, reconnecting with a family member when you thought you never would."

 

She swallowed. "I know."

 

"It's okay that you want her to be a part of your life even though she fucked up. You shouldn't feel bad about that," he told her. 

 

She shifted on the couch so that she was facing him, and he did the same. She drew one of her legs up against her chest. "I just feel so guilty after everything she put Raven through and she introduced Octavia to Ontari and her friends. If it hadn't been for that kick-ass Diyoza as her public defender, she could've got sent to prison and-" at that, he couldn't help but cut her off. 

 

" _O_ nearly got herself sent to prison, not your mom," he reminded her. 

 

"I guess," she said, "I know that I'm being selfish. For wanting her back even though she did all these awful things."

 

"You're not being selfish," he shook his head, and moved closer to her, "you're being human, okay?" 

 

Clarke nodded, but he could tell she didn't actually believe it. He thought she'd say more, or feel that she could finally talk about it now that he had said it was alright, but she needed more prodding, it turned out. 

 

"So, tell me all the annoying things she's said or done in the past week, already, alright?" He asked. 

 

She hesitated for a moment before saying, "it hasn't been that bad."

 

He couldn't believe that and knew she read it on his face. 

 

"Really," she added, "she's been different. Hasn't mentioned one gala or dinner party or campaign event. Not that those are happening anymore, I don't think. And I know a major part of it is that she's afraid I'm gonna cut her out again, but it's been freaking me out a little. Not in a bad way," she said quickly, and then looked down, "I don't know. Am I crazy for thinking that things might be okay between us someday?" 

 

"You didn't tell me I was crazy for talking to O again, why would I think that for you?"

 

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because I know it wasn't easy, being there for me through all of that, especially when you had all of your own shit going on at the same time." 

 

"Like you weren't there for me too? Come on, Clarke."

 

She looked up and offered a small smile. "Well, I _tried_ to be."

 

He pretended to be offended. 

 

"You didn't make it easy, either."

 

"Yeah," he admitted, "I was kind of a basket case for a while there."

 

"Not always. Only on like, alternating weeks, and most weekends," she said. 

 

He laughed at that, and so did she, shaking her head a little so a piece of hair fell into her face. Before she could even move to tuck it behind her ear, he already had. He knew that he clearly possessed no self-control because then he stroked her cheek. Just a little. He was worried it'd be too much. After all, he couldn't remember the last time he'd allowed them to have this much contact, but she leaned into the touch, smiling softly. He couldn't bring himself to remove his hand, and after a moment, she reached up with her own and placed it on top of his, like she was scared he was going to take it away. 

 

It lasted way too long than was appropriate, especially for someone who had a fiancé. 

 

He figured he was going to have to make things unbearably awkward and disrupt the moment, but before he could he even begin to think of a way to do that, she dropped her hand and he was able to pull his own away.

 

"Thank you," her voice was quiet, and he didn't think she was going to say anything else, but eventually, she near-whispered, "you're incredible, you know that?"

 

He snorted, knowing he had to play it off, had to keep this moment strictly platonic. Even though he wondered if they'd left that behind long ago. Still, while he knew she might've had those feelings once before, she had repeatedly told him she didn't anymore. That didn't mean he'd had to stop reminding himself that every chance he got. 

 

"Really. You are. So just accept the damn compliment."

 

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "well, who am I to argue about the fact that I'm _incredible_?"

 

"Exactly," there was triumph in her voice, and maybe some slight mocking, "now, let's stop with the mushy shit and get back to the movie. My favorite part's about to come on."

 

They spent the next hour fighting over the rest of the popcorn, but he knew she let him have the last bit of it, even if she acted like she'd just lost the gold medal in the Olympics. 

 

When he woke up on the couch the next morning, he realized they'd passed out before the movie had even ended. It wasn't the first time, but it had been a while, maybe even before Echo. She was curled up into his side, her head on his chest, and his right arm was asleep, which should've bothered him. But it didn't. He thought for a moment about waking her up and getting some kind of breakfast going, but she looked so damn peaceful, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Without thinking too much about what it meant, he closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep again. 

* * *

Raven knew something was up when Murphy said he wanted to hang out at his place. Firstly, the two didn't just casually hang out, okay? They made specific plans for specific days that had strict rules. Or at least, that was what she'd told herself. These plans also never involved her going to Murphy's, for some reason. So when he suggested she come over for a couple of beers and the newest John Mulaney special, she started to prepare herself for something heinous to go down. 

 

When she knocked and he let her in, nothing seemed to be off. That didn't make all of her worries go away. This _was_ Murphy, she reminded herself, he could be a tricky bastard when he wanted to be one. 

 

"Ready to make that weird chortling noise you do when you laugh too hard?" He asked as a greeting. 

 

"I do not chortle," she fired back. 

 

"Oh, you do. Don't worry though, it's a very nice chortle. The best chortle in all of Arkadia."

 

"Fuck you," she said.

 

He grinned. "Wish you would."

 

At that, she crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

"Relax, alright? Not gonna step on the mechanic dick's toes." That was probably the closest thing to an apology she was going to get. 

 

"Whatever. You promised me beer, if I do recall."

 

"In the kitchen," he said, practically throwing himself onto the piece-of-shit couch he refused to get rid of, even though it smelled suspiciously like a swamp creature. 

 

She grabbed two bottles and settled down beside him, and waited for the boom to drop on her. But they got halfway through the special, and nothing. Honestly, it was pissing her off a little, the fact that he wouldn't just ask her whatever he wanted. She knew that it was most likely about Abby. How Clarke had just accepted her back with open arms as if she hadn't spent nearly three years making all of their lives hell. Especially her and Raven's. 

 

It brought up way too many unwelcome feelings and memories, which she had done her best to block out. She'd been in therapy for almost an entire year coming to terms with all of it. The fact that her mother-figure had gone down the very same path that her own had, only this time, she'd tried dragging her down with her. Abby had supported Raven when no one else really did, and even though she'd believed in herself, having someone, especially someone like her, believe in her...It had meant everything. Some days, she had thought that she and the woman might've had a better relationship than her and Clarke. Of course, she supposed that only made it that much easier for Abby to use Raven to get what she wanted. 

 

The special was coming to a close, and still, Murphy hadn't so much as uttered a biting comment. 

 

Finally, she spat out, "will you just ask me about her already?"

 

He looked over at her slowly, and then took a sip from his beer. The bastard had the gall to feign innocence. "And of whom are we speaking?"

 

"You know who."

 

Setting down the beer, he sighed. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

 

"Of course I don't," she shook her head, "but you clearly think I do."

 

He shrugged. "I don't think it matters what I think. Exclusively in this particular situation, of course."

 

"Of course," she smirked for a second and then turned serious once more. 

 

"You can talk about it though, to me. If you want. Won't let any of it get back to anyone, so feel free to let the curses fly," he told her, and she didn't know why, but she really did believe him. 

 

She didn't think she was going to say anything about it, and she guessed neither did he because he turned away from her.

 

"I hate her," she said, and she hated that her voice shook with the blur of emotions she felt, "I hate her still, and I don't care if that makes me a terrible person or unsympathetic or whatever. I do not wish her well. I don't want her around me or any of us, really. I never will. I hate her and I hate that Clarke's decided to let her back in, because...She's just gonna fuck it all up, again."

 

He shifted, so that he was facing her on the couch, but didn't say anything. So Raven kept going. 

 

"I mean, she _used_ me to get a fix. She manipulated me, and when that stopped working, she threatened to go to my boss and get me fired," she hated how bitter her voice sounded, but it couldn't be helped. "She was a lot of things, but at least my own mom never did that," she swallowed, and avoided looking at him directly, "my mom would do the same exact thing that she's doing now. She'd get clean and make amends and tell me how much she loved me and that it would never happen again. But then in three months or weeks or fucking days, she would be right back where she'd started, and I would be the idiot that believed her." She didn't know what else there was to say, probably a whole lot, but it seemed she'd ran out of words. 

 

"I can hardly believe you've ever been an idiot," he said. 

 

She looked him in the eye, and she'd never seen John Murphy look so...Soft. He was giving her this sympathetic expression, kind of sad, but not at all pitying, and something deeper too, that she didn't want to look too closely at. 

 

'Yeah, well, even geniuses have their weaknesses," was her reply. 

 

She didn't know that she'd started crying until the tears started dripping from her chin onto her t-shirt. "Shit," she muttered, wiping them away. The last thing she needed was to fucking cry about Abby to Murphy, of all people. "Go ahead," she said, "make some idiot joke about how I'm leaking oil or I need to go into the repair shop for a tune-up or something so we can move on and pretend I'm not a pathetic mess."

 

He didn't make a joke though. He moved towards her, and she was confused at what the hell he was doing, but then, he brought his arms around her. He fucking  _hugged_ her. Murphy was holding her, and even though she hadn't made a move to reciprocate, it didn't feel nearly as weird and wrong as it should've. Maybe a little awkward though, but really, it was Murphy expressing emotions, so she wasn't too surprised. It took her a second too long, but she reached up and let her arms wrap around him, too. 

 

They broke apart after a moment, and Raven finished wiping the tears from her cheeks. 

 

"You got more beer, right?" She asked when he didn't say anything for a bit. 

 

"Yeah, I've got more beer," he replied. 

 

"Good," she nodded, "cause we're gonna need it if I'm gonna keep talking about this shit."

 

He laughed a little at that, and got up from the couch and went into the kitchen.

 

"You're really good at feelings and being emotional, anyone ever tell you that?" He asked when he got back with two more bottles. 

 

She cracked one of them open and said, "I'm really good at everything."

 

He snorted.

 

"Jerk," she said.

 

"Jerk?" He asked. "Reyes, you've wounded me."

 

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, "you wanna hear more depressing shit about Abby and me or not?"

 

"Give me your worst," he said. 

* * *

"It's an important part of our culture," Clarke argued to Bellamy after he'd launched another protest about how stupid this was. They'd been going at it like an old married couple for at least twenty minutes now, and everyone was getting tired of it. 

 

Murphy rolled his eyes, he didn't really care one way or the other, but he was siding with Clarke because, well, he was sleeping with her, after all. Plus, he knew it kind of ticked Bellamy off. 

 

" _Love Island_ is not culture. It is mindless slop invented to numb our brains so we don't notice our rights are being stripped away," Bellamy fired back, but there wasn't any real venom in his voice. 

 

"Then why did you agree to come to our binge-watching of the entire first season?" She challenged. 

 

"It's happening at  _my house._ " 

 

She considered this before replying, "we do have the best tv."

 

"Yeah, and I wonder who was behind that decision, and who wanted to adopt the one she found on the sidewalk."

 

Clarke huffed. "I still think that one would've worked _fine_..."

 

He turned to Echo, "back me up here."

 

Echo looked vaguely uncomfortable by this, but she played it cool enough, he supposed. "You guys are arguing over a tv that you already own. Can we just see how truly awful this show is already?"

 

Miller cut in, "please, for the love of all that is sacred. I think I'll prefer watching whatever the hell this show is than listening to you two bicker."

 

They both opened their mouths to protest that, but Monty had already selected the first episode and pressed play. 

 

Not even twenty minutes in, they all started shouting stuff at the tv, which pissed Clarke off because, apparently, they were, "missing the best parts," which he highly doubted. 

 

In fact, he was really reconsidering their whole relationship just based on the fact that she actually seemed to like this crap, but maybe that was just him being a little pissy asshole. Raven and Shaw had gone bowling with Lincoln and Octavia that night. Who even went fucking bowling anymore? Losers who couldn't cook, that's who. 

 

Raven seemed to be handling things a little better in light of her letting out all the resentment she had towards Abby to him. She still thought Clarke was being foolish, and that this would only end badly (which he agreed with, and not just because he was pretty sure he was stupidly in love with her), but she knew that her friend wasn't going to change her mind. She just had to get used to the idea.

 

When they'd finished watching the first episode, Clarke looked around at all of them and proclaimed, "the second one's better. I promise." When that didn't work, she said, "and I'll make you guys Moscow Mules if you shut up enough to actually watch it."

 

Murphy didn't want to agree, but she could make a killer cocktail, and eventually, even he relented. 

 

"I'll help, if you want," Echo volunteered.

 

Clarke smiled, and he was glad she wasn't as petty as him, as it was a real one. "I'd love help."

 

Everyone seemed to gloss over the fact that the two of them were never alone together. Except him, since he had a theory going that Clarke went out of her way to ensure she wasn't alone with the other too much. But maybe things were getting better for her. As much as he didn't want to be, he was kind of jealous. He knew it was a good thing, for her to maybe be getting over Bellamy, that he should want that for her as a friend. But where did that leave him? Stuck wanting someone who was never gonna want him, and losing his fuck buddy, and most likely dying alone, when he thought about it. 

* * *

Clarke and Echo had never fought, but they'd also never really gotten along. Maybe because they never hung out just the two of them. Even when they were all at Grounders or during game night, it seemed that they never had a time where they were left with only the other to speak to. Which she didn't complain about, didn't even think about, most of the time. Maybe, _maybe,_ she also happened to make sure that they never had too much one-on-one time for her own self-preservation, too. But Bellamy hadn't brought it up, ever, and she figured if he didn't think it was strange, neither should she. 

 

As the two were getting the ingredients for the drinks together though, there was a bit of awkwardness between them. Then Echo asked her about work, and she did the same, and the two fell into, if not an easy, then at least some kind of conversation. 

 

They had just finished making the drinks when Echo said, like it was nothing, "I'm sure you're not having any trouble finding someone, but I know a couple of people at work that would absolutely _die_ to live in a place like this, so just let me know if you want their contact information."

 

It took her a moment to even understand what she'd said. "What?" She asked, too stunned to come up with anything else. 

 

"For a new roommate," Echo said, and there was no malice in her tone or anything like that, but Clarke's expression made her brows furrow. "Cause Bellamy's moving in with me," she added.

 

"Yeah," Clarke nodded, "after the wedding, right?"

 

The other woman shook her head. "No...He's, um, moving in...Before. We were hoping for the end of next month."

 

"I'm sorry, I don't...I don't understand," she bit her lip.

 

Echo replied, "shit. He didn't tell you, did he?"

 

Clarke waved a hand. "I'm sure he just forgot. He's been really busy, getting ready for school to be back in session."

 

"We spoke about it three weeks ago. He said he'd talked to you about it, and that you were cool with it. Fuck," she wiped a hand across her forehead, "I'm so sorry Clarke, really, I thought you knew."

 

"It's fine," she said, "relax. No big deal. I always knew he was gonna move out, anyway. Your place is amazing."

 

Echo opened her mouth to say more, but she held up a hand, "it's nothing, believe me."

 

But she felt like the world was ending. She'd known, of course, that Bellamy was going to move into Echo's place eventually. And now that she thought about it, it made a lot more sense to do so before the wedding. It wasn't outlandish or even something that should've caught her by surprise. That didn't make it hurt any less. He was leaving her. For his new life with the woman that was going to be his wife. Going to be the mother of his children. The worst part was that he hadn't even had the guts to have an actual conversation with her about it. She was an idiot, really, for believing that things wouldn't change. Harper had been right, which she shouldn't have been surprised by at all. 

 

So, she straightened her back and walked out with half the drinks, and Echo followed with the rest. 

 

Her friends all jumped up to claim theirs, and she settled back down onto the couch. Not next to Bellamy, like she had been before, but Murphy. 

 

She could feel Bellamy's eyes on her but ignored him.

 

"Fucking finally, Griffin," Murphy said, taking a sip from his drink. 

 

"Okay," Jackson said after a couple of minutes, "we can start the next round of torture."

 

As the episode played though, she barely paid any attention to what was happening. She was stewing. She no on longer just felt sad or hurt or whatever the hell mix of emotions she had for Bellamy at any given moment. She was pissed. Then, she thought of it, and the minute she did, she knew she was going to do it. 

 

"Hey Murphy," she said, not even bothering to whisper. Jasper, who actually happened to love the first episode, gestured to the tv but she ignored him. "Your lease is up next week, right?"

 

He nodded. "Yeah, but I figured I'd just renew it. The devil you know, and everything."

 

"Don't," she said, and she felt a smirk develop on her lips. "Move in with me."

 

That got everyone's attention, even though a fight was just about to break out on the show. 

 

"What?" He asked.

 

"Bellamy's moving out," she still couldn't look over at him, though not seeing his reaction was kind of killing her, "so, I don't see why not. I mean, the sound system is fucking epic, it's much closer to the restaurant, and the kitchen is way better than yours."

 

He paused for a moment, deciphering something that must've been etched onto her face, before he shrugged, and said, "sounds good to me."

 

For the first time since she'd come back from the kitchen, she let herself look at Bellamy, "you can be out by the end of the week, right?"

 

It took him a moment to recover, and before he was able to get out, "uh, yeah, I mean it might be kind of a bitch, but-"

 

"Great," she was really smirking now, she knew it. 

 

She clinked her glass against Murphy's and took a long sip. It seemed that even though she'd already accepted she had lost the war, she still got a little thrill over winning a battle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, okay?? i know! ugh they're so dumb idek. i know that it may not seem like it, but the end is nigh for b/echo, and you won't have to wait much longer. 
> 
> find me on tumblr @detectivebellamyblake for updates/more information or just to cry about the 100 or the various other things i obsess over!!


	10. Already Broken and Already Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the lovely feedback! i never imagined i would have such wonderful readers or have this kind of response to this fic, and i'm so grateful and honestly...shook lol. ngl i feel all the pressure in the world to deliver for you guys, but ahhhh i'm hoping it works out! 
> 
> regardless, thank you thank you thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

No one thought that attending Clarke's mother's birthday event was a good idea, except Clarke. So, they were all going, of course. 

 

When she'd first admitted to everyone that she was going to miss game night that week because she was attending her mother's fancy birthday party that Jaha was throwing at Abby's place, the only person that had the guts to speak was Lincoln.

 

"That sounds nice," he'd said, while everyone interrogated their beer and wine.

 

She'd nodded. "She invited all of you guys, too. But obviously...I told her you couldn't come."

 

Raven and Octavia exchanged a loaded glance at that, which made Clarke look even more uncomfortable than she'd been before. If that was even possible. Bellamy offered to get the next round and after that, everyone tried to ignore the discomfort radiating amongst them. It wasn't just the Abby Griffin of it all, though. Things had been...Odd in the past two weeks, to say the least. 

 

It wasn't Murphy's new living situation that was throwing things off balance. At least, not between him and Clarke. Living with her was easy. He'd expected much worse after experiencing her waking up without immediate access to coffee, but things were actually going really well. They'd divided up household duties with ease. He cooked. She did the dishes. He vacuumed. She did the laundry. They bickered over which shows to watch because while he and Raven had superb taste, she enjoyed cheesy romantic comedies and bad reality tv. But other than the time she'd hit him with a pillow because he dared to say that  _To All the Boys I've Loved Before_ wasn't that good, they hadn't fought much. 

 

Echo and Bellamy weren't as lucky it seemed. They never really disagreed in front of everyone else, but rather, just made little comments that made them both residents of Passive Aggressive Land. Maybe even the king and queen, given how things had escalated lately. Miller had tried to get something out of him at basketball that week, but Bellamy wouldn't even entertain the idea of discussing it. 

 

Clarke hadn't talked to him much about the week between when Bellamy moved out and he moved in, but things were definitely tense between the two of them as well. He'd asked her about once, and all she'd said was that they didn't fight, but they didn't speak all that much either. 

 

So, even though other issues had put Abby on the backburner, she was still a sensitive topic. None of them were really thrilled Clarke was even going to that party, and he knew Raven would tell her it was a stupid idea if she thought she would listen to her. Not to mention the fact that Clarke bailing would mean he'd be hosting game night alone. Maybe that was a little selfish considering the situation, but whatever, there was a lot of pressure to give the people what they wanted, okay? 

 

But it seemed he didn't have to worry about that, because as soon as Clarke left to go to the bathroom, Harper got Monty and Jasper to come over from their pitiful game of pool. She looked at all of them for a moment before saying, "we all have to go to that party." 

 

Octavia didn't even reply, and Raven scoffed. 

 

"I'm serious, you guys," Harper told them, "I'm worried about her...And I know she's talked to her mom a couple of times over the past couple of weeks, but this would be their first big thing since they reconnected. We're her friends. We should back her up."

 

Monty caved first, of course, and all Harper had to do was raise a single brow for Jasper to give in, too.

 

Bellamy looked at Echo, who studied him for a moment, and then spoke for both of them, "I guess we're in." 

 

Miller said, "I don't know...Seems like a bad idea," at the same time Jackson told them all, "I'll go."

 

Because everyone in this goddamn group was whipped as shit, Miller relented and grumbled about finally getting some use out of the only suit he owned. 

 

"There will probably be fancy-ass booze there," Emori shrugged, "plus I figure I can intimidate the fuck out of some snobs with my tattoos."

 

Lincoln looked at Octavia, "only if you feel you're ready." There was a little bit of a warning in his tone. 

 

"Screw the bitch," she replied, "I'll go. But I'm going for Clarke. And I am not going to be one of the designated drivers."

 

That left Raven. 

 

"Come on, Reyes," he said because no one else had the balls to do it, "you gonna let Abby Griffin be the monster under your bed your entire goddamn life?"

 

She just stared at him, let out a slow breath, and then said, "fine. I will go. But I'm not going to be the designated driver, either." She looked over at Shaw, "you wanna come to some dumb rich people party and watch while I try not to kill said rich people?"

 

"It would be an honor," Shaw replied.

 

Murphy really, really tried not to roll his eyes at that, alright? He also tried not to say anything, but Shaw just made it too damn easy. 

 

"An 'honor'? What are we? Playing Dungeons and Dragons with Jasper and the girl he's obsessed with?" He asked. 

 

Raven shot him a glare, which he pointedly ignored. 

 

"I will have you know," Jasper said, rather smug, "Maya called me her boyfriend last night."

 

"That's great, Jasper. Maybe you should bring her to the party," Harper replied and grinned as if he'd just told her he'd cured cancer. Then she took a breath, "so, it's settled. We're going to that party."

 

Clarke must've come back in time to just overhear the last bit because she looked at all of them as if they'd morphed together into a one-many headed-terrifying being. Which sometimes he wondered wasn't the reality of their lives.

 

"You are?" She asked. 

 

"Of course," Bellamy said, "it'll be fun."

 

She didn't look so sure. 

 

"What's the worst that could happen?" He said. 

 

Murphy figured a whole lot. 

 

"Okay," she replied, doing her best to smile. 

 

They were going to fucking ruin this party, he knew it. 

* * *

Though her friends had told her repeatedly that they weren't dreading the party, were actually looking forward to it, and glad to be able to be there for her, their words couldn't erase the knots in her stomach during the hour drive to the Griffin estate. It wasn't a real estate, technically speaking. At least, that's what she chose to tell people because anything else was too cringe-worthy to admit. 

 

They had split into three cars, with Murphy and Bellamy having drawn being the designated drivers, and Lincoln offering to do it. Clarke was riding over with Murphy, which was probably for the best since Bellamy was still acting weird around her in light of her kind of kicking him out. 

 

He'd tried to explain when they were alone that he was going to talk to her about moving in with Echo, but that he didn't know how to bring it up or what was the best way to tell her. 

 

She'd fired back with, "you could've started by telling me at all."

 

They hadn't talked much after that. They divided up certain items, but he mostly had his things and left anything they'd purchased for the house together with her. She'd tried to get him to take more, but he refused any of the tv stuff or even to select his favorites from their game collection, even though almost all of the video games were his. They practically tip-toed around one another for the entire week. It felt a lot like a break-up, not that she was going to point that out. 

 

Now, they were pretending like everything was fine, but it clearly wasn't. She could see that Echo was pissed that he had lied to her, which she thought was fair enough. She knew they'd have to talk about it eventually, but at the moment, she really wasn't in the mood to have another heart-to-heart with him. 

 

Her mother had sent her the dress. It was blue, kind of shimmery, and a little more low-cut than she usually wore. Still, this was her mom's night, and since everything between them was going pretty good so far, she figured it wouldn't be a big deal to wear what she wanted. 

 

They handed the car over to the valet and joined the rest of the group outside as their car was the last to arrive. Her mother was waiting with them, too, which made her feel even more uneasy. God only knew what she'd said to Octavia or Raven or even Bellamy while they'd been waiting for them. 

 

"Clarke," Abby said, and gave her a quick hug, "you look beautiful. I knew I was right about the dress."

 

She smiled. "Thanks. You look amazing, too."

 

Things were still a little stiff between them, but she was hoping that would go away with time. 

 

"It's nice to see everyone, again. And it was lovely to meet Maya," at that, the other woman blushed a little and maybe clutched Jasper's hand a little tighter. "And everyone is so excited to meet your boyfriend, John."

 

Everyone looked incredibly uncomfortable after that statement. 

 

Clarke furrowed her brows, and replied, "I told you. He's not my boyfriend."

 

Abby waved a hand. "I didn't see the harm. After all, you two are living together, aren't you? Besides, what was I supposed to tell people?"

 

She jutted out her chin and knew she was going to say something she'd regret, but Murphy cut in before she could. 

 

"It's no big deal," she looked at him, wide-eyed, and he shrugged. "Really, Abby. Thanks for having us all." 

 

Her mother looked a little relieved at that, and said, "well, I've got to get back in there. Don't want to leave Marcus alone for too long. He hates these things." She gave another smile in Clarke's direction and then disappeared into the house. 

 

"Seriously, Murphy?" She asked. 

 

"What? I think I can manage to pretend to be your boyfriend for one night." He leaned in closer and smirked. "Plus, it'll give us ample opportunity to fuck with the rich assholes I know you hate."

 

She rolled her eyes. After a moment though, he offered his arm, and she took it. 

* * *

Bellamy was not having a good time at the party. Echo was upset because he knew she hadn't wanted to go in the first place, and so she spent the whole ride over aggressively not-speaking to him. They'd been fighting practically since the day he'd moved in. Mostly about the fact that he'd lied to her. He knew he was being a dick, and that not telling Clarke and lying to Echo was wrong. He'd fucked up, and now, he was trying to just maintain any kind of balance he could find.

 

It also didn't help matters that he had no idea what to do in these situations, and unlike the previous times he'd been at them, he didn't have Clarke by his side to help him navigate all of it. 

 

Not long after they'd all gotten inside, Abby had swooped down on Clarke and Murphy and taken them with her to make introductions or greetings or whatever the hell people did at these things. She looked amazing, which he wasn't surprised by, but it twisted his stomach, watching her work the room with Murphy by her side. 

 

He missed her. Not that she was all that gone from his life, but she kind of was, in the most fundamental ways. They didn't bicker over whether to watch a history documentary or reality tv, only to settle for a romcom. He didn't make bacon (burning it a little, because he knew that was how she liked it) while she fought against their crappy coffee machine she refused to let him replace. They hadn't really been alone since it had happened.

 

When she'd invited Murphy to move in with her, and refused to even look at him while she did it, he wondered if it wasn't the end of their friendship. Maybe not in the most basic sense, but in ways that were important. He had started to think if he hadn't been losing her for a while now, and it'd finally just dawned on him. 

 

The rest of them were trying to pretend like they fit in at all. Which, even though he supposed they looked the part, he knew none of them did. 

 

He'd just finished talking to a guy who he was fairly certain was responsible for his last pay cut, when Murphy came over and swiped a glass of champagne off of a server's tray. 

 

"I don't know how Clarke is still sane after years of these things," he muttered. 

 

Bellamy didn't reply, but O did, "can't believe Abby's been back in her life for less than a month and she's already carting Clarke around like a show pony again."

 

"You seemed to be having some fun though," Harper said to Murphy. 

 

He shrugged. "Clarke and I always have fun," and he winked.

 

That made Raven roll her eyes. 

 

"I think you guys are actually really cute. In a kind of skeezy way," Maya said, and he knew she was trying to be nice, but the comment made everything a lot more tense than it'd been a moment ago. 

 

Raven said, "please? Cute, those two?" She snorted. "They couldn't have a functional relationship if they were paid a million dollars. Each."

 

At that, Murphy frowned for a second, then he smirked, and Bellamy knew whatever he was going to say, he didn't want to hear it. 

 

"I've actually been thinking about asking Clarke to go on a date. A real one," no one said anything, so he kept going, "I mean, we hang out all the time, the sex is great, and I think it'd be fun."

 

"You're kidding," this was from Raven, who was already on her second glass of champagne. 

 

Murphy shook his head. "Not in the slightest."

 

Bellamy didn't even get the chance to say anything, because Clarke came over to them.

 

"You guys suffering already?" She asked.

 

"We're only in like, the fourth circle of hell, don't worry," Monty told her. 

 

Jasper nodded. "Yeah, so three more circles to go until the real fun starts."

 

She laughed a little and then poked Murphy in the shoulder. "I almost forgot, Jaha wants to talk to you."

 

"About what?" Murphy asked. 

 

"Investing in your future or some shit." She shrugged. 

 

"Is this what Julia Roberts felt like in _Pretty Woman_?" He asked.

 

"Fine," she took a sip of her champagne, "don't accept his help in maybe getting you your own restaurant one day."

 

Murphy actually looked shocked. "Wait, he said that?"

 

"In rich people speak, basically."

 

He turned to the rest of them, and said, "if you excuse us, we've got work to do," and he pulled a laughing Clarke back into the throng of people. 

 

"Like I said," Maya interjected, "cute."

 

"I doubt he'll even do it," Raven said, "I mean, since when has he had the balls to take any kind of risk? Besides, I doubt he'd want to mess with his near-constant access to getting laid."

 

"Why do you care so much?" Shaw asked, which made Emori nearly choke on her champagne. 

 

"I don't," she replied. 

 

"You clearly do. You haven't stopped talking about them since we got in the car." 

 

She waved a hand. "They're just...Idiots, okay? And they're screwing with the group dynamic."

 

"Whatever. I'm gonna go get another glass of champagne." And then he took off.

 

She met eyes with Bellamy, and he raised his brows. 

 

"Fuck," she muttered and walked away in the direction Shaw had just gone. 

 

The rest of them spread out after that, doing their best to not behave in a way that would embarrass Clarke or in Octavia's case, give her an excuse to punch Abby in the face. They didn't have much success. 

 

Echo was watching him carefully, and he wondered if she would make another loaded comment, so he pretended not to notice. His eyes flicked over to where Clarke and Murphy were talking to Jaha. The man was actually smiling at them, even though Murphy looked like he might pee his pants a little. She was laughing, the fake one that she reserved exclusively for these things. Then she turned and rubbed his arm, and smiled up at him and kissed his cheek. Bellamy had to look away. 

 

He brought a hand around Echo's waist. She made a move to turn away from him, but before he could he said, "let's go upstairs."

 

She furrowed her brow. 

 

"It'll be fun."

 

"Looking around some giant house?" She snorted. 

 

It took her moment before it clicked for her. 

 

"Oh," she said, "you wanna go _upstairs_ , do you?"

 

He nodded and grinned. 

 

She played with his tie for a second. "You haven't wanted to go upstairs since you moved in," she said.

 

He was proud of himself for managing not to wince. "I know, but..." He shrugged.

 

She hesitated for a moment, but she eventually brightened. "Okay, let's go."

 

He used to think he was a good guy. Maybe not an excellent one, but a good one nonetheless. A decent friend and a pretty okay brother and sometimes an alright boyfriend. But he knew, when he suggested that he and Echo go upstairs, there was a line he was crossing that couldn't be uncrossed. A fundamental shift in the kind of person he was, and how he treated those he apparently loved. He wasn't forced into it, didn't go along with someone else's plan or anything like that. He chose to do it, even though he knew it was beyond fucked up. Even though he knew it made him more than just an asshole or a dick. He wished he had some kind of excuse, some kind of reasoning behind it. When it came down to it though, it had everything to do with the way Clarke had looked up and smiled at Murphy. 

* * *

Raven found Shaw eventually, but when she did, she really wished she hadn't.  

 

He was out in the back of the house, which opened onto a large outdoor patio and yard. Fairy lights had been strewn up through the branches of the trees, and it seemed Clarke got her gardening skills from her mother, or maybe, the people she employed to do the landscaping for her. 

 

Sipping from a half-empty champagne flute, he didn't look over at her as she approached. 

 

"I'm sorry," she said, at last, "I was kind of a bitch in there."

 

He just nodded.

 

"Can you at least look at me?" And to his credit, he did. 

 

"I know I complain about Clarke and Murphy a lot, but really, it's just because my friends are so dumb, you know? It's a hard life I live," her tone was slightly joking, she was hoping she could get out of this without a fight. 

 

He shook his head a little. "You're not upset with them because they're dumb, Raven."

 

She raised her brows. "Then why?"

 

He didn't answer, so she added, "please. Enlighten me."

 

"Are you in love with him?" He asked.

 

She sure as hell hadn't been expecting that.

 

It took her a moment too long to reply, "of course not! I mean, that's absolutely ridiculous. It's fucking _Murphy_."

 

He chewed on his lip. "Exactly."

 

"Look, I do not love Murphy, okay?" She looked him in the eyes and tried to plead with them better than she could with her words. 

 

"Do you love me?" 

 

"Shaw...I told you when we started this that I needed time, that I've been burned before, and..."

 

"That's a 'no'," he said, cutting her off. 

 

"It's not!" She argued. "I'm just not there yet."

 

"We've been dating for over a year. I don't think you're ever gonna get there," he replied. 

 

"Don't do this. Don't ruin this because you're angry at me right now. Let's just...Let's go back inside and make fun of Jasper trying to be fancy and then we'll go back to your place and it'll be good. Okay?"

 

"For how long?" He challenged, "a night? A week? How long until you're back to commenting on every little thing Murphy and Clarke do? How long until you finally give up trying to convince yourself that you don't feel the way you do?" 

 

"I don't love Murphy," she repeated. 

 

"I don't believe you."

 

She swallowed. "I don't love Murphy," but even she could hear the desperation in her voice. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. After everything, after him being such an ass and her hating him for so long, she couldn't now...Want him. It was impossible. 

 

Shaw had already turned away from her and started to go back into the house. She trailed after him, like the pathetic little girl she was. 

 

"I don't," she kept saying as they moved through the house, but he didn't listen to her. 

 

When they got to the front foyer, he paused and then told her, "I really hope you find a way to be happy. You deserve it." And he left. 

 

She stormed back into the main room, and it didn't take her long to find him.

 

Her friends were all standing together in a corner of the room. Minus Echo and Bellamy. Monty was doing an impression of Clarke interacting with some snob, and they were laughing. She marched right up to Murphy, and really, she thought she was gonna slap him, but it seemed she couldn't bring herself to do it.

 

Instead, she seethed, "you're a real piece of shit, you know that?"

 

He started to laugh, maybe because they'd been in these situations before, and in the end, she had been fucking with him. But the smile disappeared on his face when her expression didn't change. 

 

"What's wrong?" He asked.

 

"Take one guess."

 

"Raven-" Harper started to say, but she shot her a glare and the other backed down. 

 

"I'm guessing _Top Gun_ took off?" Fuck this fucking fuck, she thought. 

 

"Can you ever just not be a complete asshole? Or is it a part of your DNA or something?"

 

"Reyes, come on, let's not do this right now. If he left, he's clearly an idiot and you shouldn't waste your breath."

 

"Fuck you. You don't know anything about Shaw," she spat. 

 

"I know he's a dick," he replied. 

 

She shook her head. 

 

"I think-" Clarke started to say, but Raven cut her off.

 

"I don't give a shit what you have to say."

 

"Don't talk to her like that," Murphy warned. 

 

"What? You gonna chew me out for snapping at your little girlfriend?" She laughed dryly. "Oh, that's right. She isn't your girlfriend. She's just someone desperate enough to screw a cockroach."

 

"Seriously," he continued, "the fuck happened to you?"

 

Then she kind of lost it. As if she hadn't already. 

 

"You fucking happened to me, Murphy. You ruin everything good in my life. Yet, stupidly, I decided to still allow you to be a part of it, even though you're clearly not worth it. I must have some undiagnosed brain tumor to be enough of an idiot to think that you might actually grow the fuck up one day, and stop screwing with my life. But you know what? I'm done. This, whatever the hell this weird pseudo-friendship was, it's over."

 

"Like I give a fuck," Murphy fired back after a second. 

 

"Fine," she told him.

 

He nodded. "Good."

 

She stormed off once more and was proud of herself for making it to the coat closet in time before she started crying. 

* * *

No one knew what the hell to do after Raven left. Murphy's entire body was tense, and she wondered if he wasn't shaking a little. 

 

"Can you guys give us a minute?" She asked her friends, and they seemed grateful to make themselves scarce. 

 

"I don't what that was about but she'll come around," she told him.

 

"You think? You really think Raven Reyes is gonna change her mind about me being the person that continuously ruins her life?" He still was looking off in the direction she had gone. "It's not like she's all that wrong."

 

She didn't know what to say to that, what to say to make him feel better. She knew she had to do something though. If nothing else, she and Murphy had learned in the past couple of months that they needed each other. Especially if they were going to get through their unrequited love bullshit. 

 

"Wanna see pictures of me in middle school?" She asked because it was the only thing she could think of. 

 

"I already know how you used to dress," he said.

 

"You saw how I was in high school. Very different, trust me," she replied. 

 

"We talking braces?" He asked, and looked at her for the first time since Raven had, if she was being honest with the reality of it, wrecked him. 

 

"Oh yeah," she said and laughed a little. "I also might have been a little bit of a horse girl."

 

"No!" He said.

 

"It's true. Now, you wanna see the evidence in my childhood bedroom or not?"

 

He downed the rest of a glass of champagne and said, "show me the shame, Griffin."

 

On the way upstairs, he teased her mercilessly, even though he hadn't even seen the evidence yet. 

 

"I bet," he said, "you had full riding crop and everything."

 

She snorted. 

 

"I take your silence as confirmation that I'm right," he said.

 

"Will you just be patient for once?" She asked. 

 

She was laughing, and even though she knew how fucked up he still was, he had allowed himself to as well. They were teasing one another when she opened the door to her bedroom and flicked on the light, but the moment she did, she froze. 

 

Because in the middle of her bedroom were Bellamy and Echo. His pants and briefs were around his ankles, and Echo was on her knees. 

 

She felt like it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Maybe she was in a simulation. Anything but the actual truth of it. She huffed out something that sounded strangely like a laugh. 

 

"What the ever loving fuck," Murphy spat out, but she was already walking hurriedly away from the room. 

 

She heard Bellamy curse and Murphy start to tear into him, but she was half-way down the stairs, taking them two at a time, which was fucking hard in heels. 

 

"Clarke! Clarke, please! I'm so sorry," Bellamy was shouting, but she barely heard it. 

 

For some reason, almost everyone else, except Jasper and Raven, was already in the foyer, looking like they were about to meet the Grim Reaper. 

 

"Clarke we have to tell you something," Miller said.

 

She ignored him. She had to get the hell out of there. 

 

"Clarke, I swear, we didn't know it was your room," Echo said.

 

She was shaking her head. "Save the bullshit and go finish him off, why don't you?"

 

" _What?_ " Harper asked. 

 

"Echo here was providing a lovely service to Bellamy in Clarke's childhood bedroom," Murphy supplied.

 

Everyone flipped the fuck out, after that. 

 

"You gotta be kidding me," Miller said, looking at Bellamy, who had no defense. 

 

Harper scoffed, and then got out, "un-fucking-believable."

 

Monty raised his brows for a moment and heaved a sigh, murmuring, "hell, we _are_ living in a teen drama."

 

Even Emori didn't defend Echo, she just shook her head and looked away from the other. 

 

Lincoln was staring at Octavia, who was looking at Bellamy and Echo with a coldness in her eyes that Clarke hadn't seen since she started therapy.

 

"Straight people," Jackson murmured, "always having to screw to at parties."

 

Bellamy was at her side and reached out to touch her elbow, but she'd already jerked it away. "Stay the fuck away from me," she spat. 

 

Then Jasper walked into the room and read everyone's faces, "you guys already told her?"

 

"Not now," Emori said.

 

It was too late though because she had heard and was looking around at them. "Tell me what?"

 

Lincoln said, "we found something in your mother's bathroom."

 

"What?" She asked. 

 

Her brain was no longer functional, she was pretty sure, so she couldn't even be sure that that was exactly what he said. 

 

Jasper started to ramble, "I had a stomach ache and I went into her bathroom to find some Tums and-"

 

She raised a hand, "I'm sorry, Jasper. But I really don't give a flying fuck about your stomach ache."

 

"Clarke," Harper spoke up, "he found pills."

 

It took her a moment to register what she'd said. She swallowed. "Show me."

 

Harper produced a bottle that looked normal enough. Except there wasn't a proper label on it or anything. She could recognize them for what they were on sight at this point. 

 

"She's a doctor though," Monty said, "so she could need them for some reason or..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to continue. 

 

"Dude, it doesn't even have a label on it," Miller said. 

 

"Right," she said, mostly to herself. 

 

"Clarke, there you are," she turned around and faced her mom. 

 

She walked up to her, the pill bottle still her hand, and looked her in the eye for much longer than she had all night. She hadn't noticed it before, but really, she should've been able to tell that something was off. 

 

"You're high," she said, her voice soft and broken, but it didn't even begin to express how much. 

 

"I can explain, I've had a small relapse, but I'm managing it-" Abby started to say, but she had already turned away from her. 

 

"I hope it's worth it," she shot over her shoulder.

 

And then she practically ran out of the house. The second the valet handed her the keys to Murphy's car, she started to get into the driver's side. But someone was there and took the keys out of her hand. For a moment she thought it was Bellamy, but it wasn't. 

 

"You can't drive right now, Clarke. Get in the passenger side," Murphy told her. 

 

She was pretty sure she nodded, but she couldn't be sure. 

 

All of her friends had trailed out after her. She got into the passenger side and stared in front of her, not being able to bear to look at any of them. 

 

Bellamy was there in a second, though. Hanging off the side of the car. 

 

"Clarke, please," some part of her registered that he was desperate, pleading with her, but she couldn't let herself care about that, "Clarke, just look at me." But she didn't. "I am so sorry, alright? I didn't...I don't know what I was thinking. Please."

 

She didn't look at him though, no matter how much she wanted to, because she knew if she did, she'd forgive him. 

 

Instead, she turned to Murphy, her expression blank and devoid of all emotions she felt. "What are you waiting for?" She asked, and then faced forward again. "Drive the car."

 

She saw him shoot a glare over at Bellamy. He was still shouting her name, begging her to forgive him. It hurt, to ignore the tone in his voice. But she had to, she told herself, or she really would fall apart. 

 

A part of her had believed that no matter what form their relationship took, that she and Bellamy would be forever. But this felt like the end. 

* * *

Bellamy didn't know how he was still standing or breathing. Hell, he was kind of surprised he hadn't turned to dust the moment Murphy's car disappeared from his sight. He had to go after her. 

 

"Can you guys get rides back? I have to...I have to try and fix this," he explained. 

 

No one would even look at him. 

 

Echo was still trying to defend what they'd done. "We didn't know it was her room," she explained. 

 

O snorted at that and marched up to Bellamy. "As if I could ever believe that bullshit. You knew which room was hers. You've been here before," and then she shook her head and stalked off. 

 

"What?" Echo asked. 

 

He didn't have any kind of response or excuse for that. It was the truth. 

 

"Echo-" he started to say, but she cut him off. 

 

"Did you _use_ me to get to Clarke?" She asked.

 

In the end, he didn't have to answer. Apparently, his face said it all. 

 

"Unbelievable," she spat, "I mean, what do you have to say for yourself?"

 

"I have to go after her Echo. I will talk about this all you want, I just...Can't tonight."

 

"Fuck you," she said, "I'm sleeping at Emori's for a while. Don't call me." She stalked off towards Lincoln's car, with Emori shooting him a glare in the process. 

 

When the valet pulled up with his car, no one else moved to get in it with him. Which, even though it meant they all hated him, he was secretly grateful for. He had to figure out how to fix this somehow, even if things could never be the way they were before. He'd give any one of his limbs for Clarke to just look at him again. 

 

The entire drive back to their, no, her, place, all he could think about was how much he hated himself at that moment, how much he wasn't the man he had thought he was, the one Clarke had always told him he was, even when he didn't want to hear it. But she was Clarke and he was Bellamy and a world that didn't involve the two of them being in one another's lives just didn't make sense to him. 

 

He could only hope that she felt the same way, and could find some way to forgive him. He had never hoped for anything so much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK.....i apologize. i hope you dont hate bellamy and raven too much???? and rip shaw it's been real my friend, but i felt like it was time to set you free. i know its rough seas ahead but i hope like five of you keep reading this after i did this to y'all lol. i know it looks hella bleak for all four of these disasters, but i promise, the plot is going where it's meant to, and i'm hoping the outcome doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> you can come yell at me on tumblr @detectivebellamyblake


	11. Look at the Mess We Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooof what have i done????? first off, i just wanna say thank you so much for responding so well to the literal novel i wrote in the comments last week. tbh i was scared i'd have to take a break from this fic, but you guys, damn, you really came through for my dramatic ass. i totally understand why some of you are pissed as all hell, but honestly, to me, that just means i did my job??? idk i hope you still trust me to deliver for y'all. 
> 
> i have looked at the story i'm telling and given some ideas from readers and feedback i've received, i have made some small adjustments that i hope will serve the story well. one of them you can clearly see in the updated tags, but i will say i haven't deviated from my endgame for this story. still, i've gotten some good feedback on possibly writing an alternate ending for this fic, and depending on how people are feeling further on in the story, that might definitely happen! for the three people still reading this, i love you. 
> 
> regardless of all of that, i am so thrilled and grateful to whoever is willing to stick with me, especially after that last chapter. i really love all of you. i read every comment and get so excited by a new kudos. sometimes i wish i could soothe all your worries and just tell you everything that happens haha, but i cant yk?? this story is one that's really taken on a life of its own, which never would have been possible without all of you, and for that, i will be forever grateful!!
> 
> random note: there's a spoiler from season one of sons of anarchy in here, just to warn you guys!

Murphy was kind of scared of Clarke after they left the party. He'd been expecting her to break down like she had at Bellamy and Echo's engagement party, or totally Hulk Out, but since they'd gotten into the car, she hadn't shed a single tear or cursed Bellamy's existence in the slightest. She didn't even look like she was going to cry. She had the same blank expression on her face as she had when she told him to drive away from her mom's place. 

 

When they got into the house, he got them both glasses of water. 

 

"So that night was fucked," and he took a long sip. 

 

She drank hers without replying, and still had this far-away look in her eye that was bordering on eerie.

 

"I'm gonna go to bed," she eventually said, and got up and left. 

 

He was exhausted by the events of the night as well and passed out practically the minute he collapsed into bed. Around two in the morning, he got up to go to the bathroom. And when he came back, he almost missed it. But he looked closer out the window and knew it definitely had to be there. It was something. Something moving on their patio. And while it was dark and he couldn't make out the exact shape, it looked a lot like a person. His heart started to race a little, and he crossed the hall to go into Clarke's room.

 

"Clarke! Wake up." He started shaking her. 

 

"What is your problem?" She asked, sitting up. 

 

"There's someone out on the patio," he said. 

 

"What?" She was still half-asleep. 

 

"Dude, we're being house-invaded!"

 

"Shit," she muttered. 

 

"What do we do? I mean, do we call the cops? Do we call Miller? The fuck do we do?"

 

Clarke waved a hand as if the house got broken into all the time. 

 

"Relax. I'm prepared for this," and then she rooted around under her bed and pulled out an aluminum baseball bat.

 

"You've had that there the whole time?" He asked.

 

She shrugged. "I'm a young woman that lives in the city. I don't know what else you expected."

 

They walked down into the kitchen together, where he grabbed a frying pan. She rolled her eyes. Whatever. If she was going to have a weapon, then so was he. Maybe he was crouching behind her, just a little bit. 

 

"Okay, so on the count of three," he said.

 

"Seriously?" Clarke shook her head and flung open the door to the outside. 

 

The shape started to move, and okay, it was definitely a person. They were so fucked. Maybe they were gonna die. All he could think was at least Raven would have to deal with the fact that her last words to him had been her being an ass. Murphy clutched the frying pan and may or may not have made a sound that was not entirely human. 

 

She raised the baseball bat and was just about to wack the fuck out of the stranger with it when she said, "Bellamy? What the hell are you doing?"

 

Murphy flicked on the light for the patio, and indeed, their so-called intruder was Bellamy. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised. 

 

"Dude," he said, "what're you doing here?"

 

He stammered for a bit, "I knocked, but you guys didn't answer and..."

 

"So you decided to break into our backyard?" Clarke asked. The baseball bat was still raised. 

 

He eyed it warily, and she slowly lowered it. "Uh, yeah?"

 

"You are the stupidest person alive, you know that?" She snapped. 

 

He looked down and hung his head. "I'm aware."

 

"What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice cold. 

 

 He looked up at her. "I'm so sorry, Clarke."

 

"It's not good enough," she replied. 

 

"I will do anything. I don't care what it is, okay? I will take every insult, everything you have to throw at me, alright? I don't care how long it takes or if we're never the way we were. I'll take anything. I will do anything to have you in my life. I am so sorry, and I know I can never fix it, never make it better. But I won't stop trying. I was an idiot. And I hate myself for hurting you," he swallowed, "I know I don't deserve it, but I need you."

 

"Well, I don't need you," she told him. 

 

Even though she wasn't showing it, Murphy knew this wasn't easy for her. Still, she didn't give Bellamy even an inch, which he was sickly proud of, the dude had fucked with her. On purpose. He didn't deserve anything from her. 

 

"Please, Clarke-"

 

Murphy wondered if a part of Bellamy didn't break at the moment when he started to plead with her, even though he probably already knew it was hopeless. 

 

"Bellamy, just go home," she said, turning away from him. 

 

"You're my home." And yeah, he thought, if he wasn't broken before, he certainly was now. 

 

She hesitated for a second but then stepped towards the door without looking at him. 

 

"Not anymore." With that, she walked back into the house. 

 

When she was gone, Murphy shook his head.

 

"What did you think was gonna happen?" He asked, and he didn't wonder if he wasn't just talking about the events of that night. But everything that had happened ever since he got engaged.

 

He didn't wait around outside for an answer. 

* * *

It was a bank holiday, so Murphy and Clarke invited everyone over for brunch. No one mentioned the party, for which, she was grateful. They also didn't point out Raven or Bellamy's absence, which might've been for their own self-preservation than anything else. Emori had said Echo had too much work to come, but they all knew that was a lie. 

 

Despite everything, Clarke was managing to have a pretty good time. Jasper brought Maya, who couldn't stop gushing about Murphy's food, and she found herself laughing more than once. 

 

When he'd finished the first round of pancakes, Murphy took down a box of stale multigrain Cheerios from the pantry and poured them into a bowl. He got a spoon and added a little bit of milk. 

 

"You shouldn't encourage this," she said.

 

He ignored her. 

 

"Where are you going with those? Didn't Clarke buy them forever ago when she thought she was going on a health kick?" Harper asked. "Besides, we have all of this delicious food that you just made right here."

 

Murphy shot her a look and then headed out on the patio. 

 

"He's feeding Bellamy," Clarke said, taking a big bite out of a blueberry pancake. 

 

"I'm sorry," Miller was looking at her like she'd grown a second head, "did you just say he's _feeding_ Bellamy?"

 

She nodded, not looking at any of them. 

 

"How long has he been out there?" Monty asked, his eyes flicking towards the door and then back at her. 

 

She sucked on her teeth, "since the night of the party." 

 

Octavia raised her brows. "You mean...He's been out there for _four days_?"

 

She didn't reply to her. 

 

"It's August," Jackson said, "it's like ninety degrees during the day."

 

"Isn't it supposed to rain tomorrow?" Emori asked. 

 

"That's cold, but I do kind of respect it," Miller said as he dribbled maple syrup on his plate. 

 

"How does he go to the bathroom?" Jasper asked because of course, that would be what he wondered the most about. 

 

"I sneak him in when Clarke's at work, and no, he hasn't showered," Murphy said as he came in.

 

"I told you the bucket would've been fine," she replied. 

 

Harper frowned. "You wanted to...Give him a bucket?"

 

"Yeah," she said as if the entire thing wasn't absurd.

 

"What does he even do out there all day?" Monty asked. 

 

"Mopes, mostly," Murphy commented. 

 

"He was," she said, "until _someone_ snuck him a phone charger after the second night," she shook her head, "I knew that getting those outlets installed out there was a bad idea."

 

"So," Maya said, a little tentative, "we're just supposed to sit in here, eating all this amazing food, while he's...Out there by himself eating stale Cheerios in the blistering heat?"

 

"I don't see why we should let him ruin our good time. If he wants to sit out there, that's his business," Clarke said, grabbing another pancake and putting it onto her plate. 

 

No one knew how to even begin to reply to that for a while. 

 

"Have you talked to him at all since that night?" Octavia asked.

 

Before she could answer Murphy cut in, "no, she hasn't." When she glared at him, he raised his arms in defense, "not that I don't respect that choice, of course."

 

"Can we just not talk about it?" She asked. 

 

They exchanged a couple of glances between them, but eventually, they gave in. Things fell back into the pace they'd been prior to bringing up Bellamy, but she felt the tension that hadn't been there before.

 

More than once, she'd wondered who did he think he was, pulling this crap? It didn't matter. He could wait out there for a hundred days and she still wouldn't budge. Even if he hadn't wanted her to find out what he'd done, that couldn't erase the fact that he had hurt her on purpose. How could she possibly even begin to forgive that? The thought pained her to even consider. Because a part of her knew, if she went out there, and talked to him, he'd weasel his way back into her life, and she couldn't allow that to happen. She may not have needed him anymore, but that didn't mean she'd stopped wanting him in her life. Even if she knew she shouldn't. It was better this way, she figured, better for her in the long to just...Cut him loose. Even if it hurt to do it. 

* * *

After not leaving her apartment for four days, Raven knew she was starting to lose it a little bit. She had been wearing leggings and t-shirts every day since the party. The only communication she'd had with other human beings was texting her friends about what was happening between Bellamy and Clarke, and if Murphy had mentioned her at all. She tried not to be crushed when they said he hadn't. She'd messaged both Clarke and Murphy maybe thirty times. Clarke had sent back a message saying everything was alright, and she forgave her, but Raven knew it wasn't really the truth after they hadn't messaged each other since. He hadn't replied to a single one. For a day, she thought he might've blocked her. And then the fucker turned his read receipts on, so she knew he was reading all of them. 

 

She was on her couch, half-way through eating an entire carton of Oreos while  _Sons of Anarchy_ played in the background. It was pathetic, really, but she picked up her phone and started typing. Again.

 

_imessage: cockroach_

 

 **Raven:** i know you hate me. i was a bitch. i know i've said that like...twenty times already, but you got me saying it again. go you. pls talk to me. i'm having a soa rewatch and i'm about to get to donna's death and like...you know how much that fucks me up

 **Raven:** and yeah, i am trying to emotionally manipulate you. sue me. 

 **Raven:** i had no right to say the stuff i did, but like, come on

 **Raven:** i know you know that i know you're reading these 

 **Raven:**  you don't ruin my life. i do it all on my own. mostly.

 **Raven:** this is not what taylor swift would want you to do, you know?

 **Raven:** you're the only person that knows how much i love her. did you know that??

 **Raven:** WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO MEAN????

 **Raven:** ok i know thats not fair cause i was mean first soooooo

 **Raven:** HOW BOUT WE SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE IT OFF????

 **Raven:** that one not working for you?

 **Raven:**  AND I'M STANDING ALONE IN A CROWDED ROOM AND WE'RE NOT SPEAKINGGGG AND IM DYING TO KNOW IS IT KILLING YOU LIKE ITS KILLING MEEEEE????

 **Raven:** i will have you know im actually singing those lyrics rn. my neighbors are gonna report me and get me kicked out and then ill be homeless and its all ur fault. 

 **Raven:** i miss you, you ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE!!! YOURE A SICK FUCK YOU KNOW THAT?? FUCKING ANSWER ME

 **Raven:**  ok that was way too harsh as true as it is

 **Raven:** im sorry

 **Raven:** i miss us 

 **Raven:** if you've watched any peaky blinders without me i'll kill you

 

She flung her phone onto the other side of the couch so she wouldn't be tempted to keep going. He was never going to answer. Not after the way she'd treated him and Clarke. Really, she couldn't blame him. She'd torn into him and snapped at Clarke because she couldn't handle her own damn feelings. That wasn't on them, it was on her.

 

When Shaw had asked her if she'd loved Murphy, she really didn't know what to do with herself, didn't know how to make room for those feelings in the world in which she lived. It was impossible, and yet, she already had known it wasn't, hadn't she? Understanding that was one thing though, and accepting it a whole other. 

 

So, she'd gotten angry, and lashed out at the people she knew she could hurt the most. She'd been awful to them, all because she was hurting and it was easy and really, she was having an inner crisis of her own because she finally had to confront her feelings. It was all kinds of wrong, and probably made her a horrible person and an even worse friend. If she even had any of those after what she'd pulled. She wanted to fix things, more than anything else in the world, but he just wouldn't give her a chance. It didn't help that she wasn't sure she even deserved one at this point. 

 

She shoved another Oreo in her mouth and tried to pay attention to the tv, but it was no use. Not even excellent writing and guys with chiseled good looks could distract her. 

 

When the idea came to her, she knew it was wrong. That she definitely shouldn't do it. That it was manipulative, and a little bit cruel, and definitely wouldn't get him to be any more willing to forgive her than he was now. It was also maybe the most desperate and cliched thing she'd ever done. But she knew it would get him over there. 

 

She sat up, wiping Oreo dust off of her shirt, and grabbed her phone. She typed out the message quickly and sent it before she could back out. 

 

_imessage: cockroach_

 

 **Raven:**  SOS! PLS HELP!! SOMEONE BROKE INTO MY APARTMENT! I SWEAR ON TOMMY SHELBY'S LIFE I'M NOT LYING!

* * *

He was preparing to spend his fourth night sleeping on one of Clarke's patio chairs when he got a text from Echo. They hadn't spoken since the night of the party. Even though she'd told him not to, he had tried calling her but stopped when she texted him to stop, that she would message him when she wanted to talk. He thought, considering what he'd done, this was fair. 

 

_imessage: echo_

 

 **Echo:** alright. i think i'm as ready as i'll ever be to talk. emori told me where you've been sleeping. you can come to my place. give me an hour. 

 

 **Bellamy:** i'll be there. 

 

He noticed how even though they hadn't talked yet, she had already called it her place. It didn't surprise him. He knew what this conversation was going to consist of, after the shit he had pulled. Just as he didn't deserve Clarke's friendship, he knew that he didn't deserve her either. 

 

When he got to her place, she opened the door, took one look at him, and snorted. "I didn't know if it was true," she shook her head a little, and gestured for him to come in. 

 

She took a seat on the couch, and he sat next to her. 

 

Since he'd been the one to fuck everything up, he started, "before I say anything else, I wanna say how sorry I am for using you."

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Which time?" Which, yeah, he deserved. 

 

"All of them," he told her. "I had no business getting involved with you as seriously as I did. Not when I knew I loved someone else."

 

"No, you didn't." She swallowed, "but I knew, too. I mean, you weren't exactly subtle, Bellamy. I guess I just wanted it to work so badly...I don't know. I've never had a relationship this serious, and I thought it could work."

 

"I really wanted it to," he said, "I don't know if that's okay to say, and I know none of this has been fair to you, but I didn't ask you to marry me out of spite. I asked you because I was really hoping we could make each other happy."

 

She sighed. "Well, this fucking sucks," and to his surprise, she laughed a little.

 

"Echo-" But she held up a hand.

 

"I'm pissed at you, alright? I think you're an asshole and I can't believe I allowed myself to be used by you. But you've made me really think about who I am and what I want," she took a breath, "which is why I'm moving to New York."

 

He furrowed his brow, and she rolled her eyes. 

 

"Not because of you, idiot. I would never let a guy make me run away. Because...My entire life I've let other people control me, you know? And maybe that's why our relationship worked as long as it did, I don't know. But I got this great job offer. Much higher up than where I'm at now, and honestly, I'm tired of working for Nia. She's not good for me. And I think it's about time I did what was good for me."

 

He nodded. "I really want you to be happy, Echo."

 

She smiled, a little sadly. "I will be."

 

Then she twisted off the ring and handed it back to him. 

 

It was incredibly awkward after that. They both got up, and he pretended to ignore that she hadn't checked if he'd left some kind of grease stain on her couch. 

 

"I should, you know, get back to..." At that, she almost laughed for real. 

 

When he was halfway out the door, she added, "and Bellamy? You may not deserve it, but I might be rooting for you, too. If only to get to say that I won the break-up, and am the farthest thing from bitter."

 

"Thanks," he said.

 

"Don't fuck it up again," was her reply.

 

And then he left and started walking back to Clarke and Murphy's. 

* * *

Murphy had just finished throwing on his suit jacket when he saw the text from Raven. It had been sent almost an hour ago, but he knew he couldn't just ignore it.

 

He popped into Clarke's room, where she was still getting ready, and told her, "emergency at Reyes'. I wouldn't go if I didn't think it was serious. Can you call the restaurant and push our reservation back? I'll meet you there, okay?" He asked.

 

"Sure," she said, and though she gave him a little bit of a look at the fact that he was rushing over to Raven's after everything had happened, she let him go without an argument. 

 

When he got to her building, he cursed the extremely slow elevator and practically ran down the hallway, even though a part of his mind told him he was a complete idiot for doing so. After all, four days ago she had effectively told him she never wanted to speak to him again. While her apology texts had been satisfying, he couldn't allow himself to believe any of them. 

 

She flung open the door after his third frantic knock. 

 

"Took you long enough!" She exclaimed. "I could've been dead in a ditch somewhere, you know that?"

 

He pushed past her and into the apartment. Aside from two empty containers of Oreos and a nest of blankets on the couch that spilled onto the floor, nothing was out of place. 

 

"What the fuck, Reyes?" He asked.

 

She gulped a little. "I may not have been robbed. Just a little."

 

"Just a little?" He repeated. 

 

"Or you know," she looked to the side, "at all." 

 

It took him a moment to process the sheer idiocy of the moment, and he felt just a little bit embarrassed that he'd rushed over without a second thought. Like he was her bitch or something. 

 

"What is wrong with you?" He asked after a moment.

 

"You wouldn't answer any of my texts," she replied. 

 

"And I wonder what message that was meant to send," he fired back. 

 

"I was quoting Taylor Swift at you!" 

 

He shook his head. 

 

"Come on, Murphy. Okay, I know I fucked up. But I had just been dumped, and had three glasses of champagne and you know I'm awful at...Feelings. And-" He held up a hand. 

 

"I don't care, Raven."

 

She felt her lip tremble and she hated herself and him and the entire situation. 

 

"Please, just hear me out. I know I fucked up, and that I told you we were done. But that was wrong, okay? As much as it kills me to admit it, you've gotten under my skin with your little cockroach pinchers, alright? I want our weird pseudo-friendship back. Please, okay? Give me a chance to make it up to you," she continued, and for a second, he thought she might cry, "whatever. you're such dumb asshole, fuck my life," she muttered the last bit. 

 

As much as she had just insulted him, it also vaguely felt like she was begging to be back in his life again. 

 

"I haven't forgiven you," he told her.

 

She nodded.

 

"And I'm gonna give you, like, all of the shit in the world. For maybe, I don't know, ever." 

 

"I can take your shit, Murphy," she looked a lot less on the verge of tears. 

 

"You have to make it right with Clarke though," he said. 

 

She nodded. "I know. I fucked up with her, too."

 

"Yeah, you did," because even though she had wormed her way back into his life, that didn't mean things were suddenly okay between them. 

 

"Look, I know you technically just decided not to hate me forever, but...I've been dying to watch the next episode of _Peaky Blinders_ and I was wondering if you wanted to," she got out, appearing more nervous than he'd really ever seen her. 

 

He rubbed his jaw. "I can't," he said.

 

"Right. Too soon?"

 

"It's not that...I, uh, have a date," he swallowed.

 

"Oh. With who?" She asked.

 

"Clarke. Like I said at the party, I've been thinking about asking her out." He was studying her expression carefully, looking for what, he didn't really know. 

 

"That's nice," she finally said. 

 

"Us? Nice?" He couldn't help it, he smirked a little. 

 

She rolled her eyes. "It's nice that you two...Are happy or whatever."

 

"Thanks, Reyes."

 

"Well," she gestured towards the door, "I don't wanna keep you."

 

He opened it and stepped through, but before she closed the door behind him, he said, "we'll watch _Peaky Blinders_ tomorrow, alright? The giving you shit starts in full then, though, so be warned."

 

"I'm taking that as a verbal contract," she replied, and he laughed a little. 

 

"Have a good night."

 

"You too, Murphy."

* * *

Clarke was out on the patio, waiting until it was time to leave for the restaurant. She didn't know why she'd been disappointed when she saw Bellamy had left. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. She had let him sit out there for days without a word. Not that he didn't deserve it, really. Still, she supposed even Bellamy Blake knew when to quit. 

 

Then she heard a string of curses and watched with a mix of a little bit of shock, horror, and if she was being honest with herself, the terrifying desire to laugh, as Bellamy climbed over the fence and dropped back into the patio. 

 

When he saw that she was standing there, he froze. She looked away and kicked at a pebble. 

 

He didn't say anything, even though she thought he would launch into another round of apologies. Eventually, the silence became too much. She turned to go back into the house. 

 

"Will you at least yell at me?" He asked.

 

She paused. She should go back inside. Because, honestly, fuck him. Of course, she didn't. Instead, she turned around and looked him right in the eye. 

 

"You want me to yell at you?" She challenged. "Fine. You are selfish and weak and frankly, not the person I always believed you were. You're a pathetic asshole that used another human being, who I actually don't dislike, to get back at me for having sex. You say that you care about me, that you need me, well, you hurt me on purpose. So what the hell am I supposed to think about that? I mean, you have the nerve to tell me that I'm your home after the shit you pulled? I hate you right now, Bellamy," she let out a breath, "there, I yelled at you. Satisfied?"

 

"You're right," he replied. "Everything you said, it's the truth."

 

"So why did you come back?" She asked. "I thought you finally figured out that I am never going to forgive you."

 

"I only left because," he swallowed, "I had to go talk to Echo."

 

She didn't reply. 

 

"I wanted to end it," and she really hoped her eyes didn't widen a little like she thought they did, "I mean, she wanted to end it, too. So it was...Mutual, I guess."

 

"Good for Echo," she said. 

 

"I can accept your hatred, but I can't live with not having you in my life," he said. 

 

"So where does that leave us?" She asked. 

 

"Maybe you just hate me for a while, and I do everything I can to make it right. Even if it never happens."

 

"I don't think it can ever be how it was," she told him.

 

"Like I said, I'll take anything," and he sounded so goddamn desperate, she had to believe him. 

 

"I'll think about it," and that was the most she could give him at the moment. 

 

He nodded. "You look really nice," he gestured to her dress. It was red, and kind of short, but she found him complimenting her didn't turn her stomach nearly as much as she thought it would. 

 

"You look homeless," she replied. 

 

He laughed a little at that. "I'm pretty sure I smell homeless, too."

 

"You got a hot date or something?" He joked. 

 

It took her a second to have the guts to answer, "I do, actually. With Murphy."

 

He replied without hesitation, "that's great, Clarke."

 

"Is it?" She asked. 

 

"If it makes you happy, then yeah, it is."

 

She looked at him for a moment, trying to decipher if he was lying or not. He didn't seem to be, though. Maybe it would've been easier if he had been, a part of her believed. 

 

"Okay," she said, "well, I'm gonna go now," she added, "and you should too, probably. I mean, you look like a giant ball of grease right about now."

 

"Yeah, I probably need like three showers." He started to move to climb up the fence again.

 

She rolled her eyes. "Bellamy, you can use the door."

 

"Right," he laughed. 

 

Even though she fought against it, she smiled a little. 

 

They split at the front door. Him going in one direction, and her the other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this was a super pressure-heavy chapter to write for me, and i hope i did it justice. just as a reminder from my comment on the last chapter, if there's any hate i'm going to have to delete it. no ill will towards any of you, but gotta keep this a fun place for everyone, including me!
> 
> come yell with me @detectivebellamyblake on tumblr!


	12. Where We Gonna Go From Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i took almost two weeks off, but i think this chapter tried to kill me, and i didn't want to put out something i wasn't proud of. i put a pretty intense amount of pressure on myself when i write and...Basically, that's why this chapter took so long to come out. but! we are back!
> 
> the 'apology tour' continues here haha and we get a bit deeper into everything. still, i'm ultimately glad i took some time off because i was really burnt out, i think. that said, i'm really excited to back to the story! there's still a long way to go for these idiots, which i hope you're okay with, but i'm hoping where i've decided to take the story will be satisfying for you all!
> 
> thank you all so much for reading and giving me feedback, it makes my day and i am beyond humbled, excited, and in awe of you all. i hope you enjoy!

Raven was grateful that Clarke had agreed to get coffee with her. When she'd sent a text asking her if they could meet up, so she could properly apologize for her behavior, not just at the party, but the last couple of months as well, the other had taken an hour to respond with a, "maybe," and then two more days to say that she could. She'd known that she hadn't been fair to her or Murphy, and she was doing what she could to make things right. It wasn't that easy, of course.

 

Even though Murphy had come over the day after his date with Clarke, she could tell that he was still pissed at her. As he promised, he gave her shit for being such an ass. Repeatedly.

 

He'd told her, "I guess that's what happens when the red wire crosses the blue one. Surprised your whole system didn't short circuit and knock out the lights at Abby's place."

 

Normally, she would've called him an ass, but she'd just nodded and let the moment be as uncomfortable as he intended it. 

 

It wasn't just that though. Everything felt weird and tense between them. He didn't tease her, really, aside from pointing out how much of a jerk she'd been, and she didn't feel she had the right to joke around with him anymore. Instead of him cooking, they just ordered take out, which they had never done before, and he'd texted Clarke the entire second half of the episode. She'd only known it was her because he'd explained that she had to work late at the gallery even though it was dead, so he was sending her niche food memes. After what she'd done, she knew she didn't have the right to be bothered by that, and besides, if she and Clarke were on better terms, she would've texted her, too. Just maybe not niche food memes, which she hadn't even known existed. 

 

She got to the coffee shop half an hour early because she was so nervous. She picked a spot near the back, so they could have some privacy, but also near a window because she knew Clarke liked those ones. Also, if things went bad, she figured one of them could dive out of it and escape. 

 

While she waited, she ate an entire peanut butter cookie and then got a muffin and ate half of that before Clarke showed up. 

 

"Hey," the other said as she took the seat across from her. 

 

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Raven said. 

 

Clarke took a sip from her coffee. "I'll be honest, I didn't think I was going to. But Murphy convinced me."

 

She felt a wave of gratitude for him. Not only that he seemed willing to entertain the idea of not completely hating her for the things she'd said, but also that he believed that she wanted to make things right with the other woman. 

 

"Well, still, thank you. I know I was a complete jerk at the party. Hell," she said, "not just the party. Since you guys told us you were hooking up, really. I know it doesn't even begin to fix anything, but I really am sorry. I never should have called you desperate for doing something that's none of my business and, regardless of that, isn't true. You guys...I know you said that it's a bit of a fucked situation, but I didn't handle it well. At all. I was a shitty friend. Am, a shitty friend, really."

 

"You have been," she confirmed, "but, despite you calling me _desperate_ and treating both me and Murphy like crap these last couple of months, I guess some part of me still wants you in my life."

 

It wasn't in her nature, to submit and grovel and let go of her pride. It was difficult to swallow it, but she knew if she didn't want to lose her friends, she had to accept what she'd done. 

 

"I don't why you do, but...Thanks. I know I'll probably totally suck at making it up to you, but I'm really going to try. I promise," she replied. 

 

"I'm expecting some trial and error, don't worry, and I think you really do want to make it better but," she chewed on her lip, "Murphy told me what you told him when you got him over to your place, and he will never say it but, the night of the party, you really fucked with him. He needs to be reassured that you really are sorry. And that you won't do it again," Clarke said.

 

Raven nodded. Her apology, and the way she'd gone about getting him to her place, was not her proudest moment. She'd been latching onto anything she could possibly think of in order to get him to talk to her again, and hadn't really considered the consequences. She'd done a lot of that lately. 

 

"Yeah...I probably should try and see if he's willing to talk about it again," she admitted.

 

"I think he will be. Unfortunately for us, it seems that we both still want you around."

 

Raven had to laugh just a little at that. She let out a breath, ready to go into another rambling speech about how sorry she was, but Clarke cut in.

 

"Do you mind if we...Try and move on a little? Right now? It's not that I don't appreciate the apologizing, and that I won't appreciate more of it in the future, but..."

 

She nodded. "Sure, yeah. We can talk about anything."

 

"Really?" Clarke asked. 

 

"Of course." And then, because she really was trying to be an actual good goddamn friend, she asked, "so, how was the date?"

 

She raised a brow. "You wanna talk about _that_?"

 

"Well, it's what's new in your life, right? And...I don't know. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

 

She paused for a moment before answering, "it was really nice, actually. I know it's more than a little weird. I mean, I don't even know if I really feel that way about him, but...It was fun." She shrugged. 

 

"I'm glad. For both of you," she said. 

 

"Anyone new for you?" Clarke asked.

 

Murphy immediately popped into her head, but she crushed that thought as soon as she had it. Even if she hadn't spent the last couple of months being a shit, he didn't want to date her. Not when he had Clarke, and that was something she not only had to accept but be happy about. 

 

"Nope," she replied. "Just focusing on work, mostly." 

 

"How's it going?"

 

Raven tried not to roll her eyes. "I have this idea, brilliant, of course, but my higher-ups are doubting me."

 

"They clearly don't know you very well, then."

 

She snorted. "I know, right?"

 

For the first time since she'd sat down, Clarke smiled a little bit, and Raven felt like maybe she hadn't ruined her life. At least, not entirely. 

* * *

Bellamy didn't have anywhere to live after he and Echo had broken up, so he was currently sleeping on Miller and Jackson's couch. His things were littered around their living room, which he knew they didn't appreciate but had been kind enough to not have said anything to him about. Still, he knew it was only so long before the situation became unbearable. For all three of them. 

 

It was Saturday night. He was listening to music, being a moody bastard, and avoiding writing his lesson plans. Miller walked in, took one look at him, and shook his head. 

 

He walked over and yanked the headphones out of Bellamy's ears.

 

"Really?" Miller asked. "The Script? Are we really here? What's next? Avril Lavigne?"

 

"I already listened to 'When You're Gone'like four times, so eat me," he replied.

 

"That's...That's not a win for you? You do know that, right?"

 

Bellamy decided not to dignify that with an answer. Probably because he knew the other was right. 

 

"I thought things were getting better since you quit camping out at her place like a total stalker?" He asked. 

 

Bellamy shrugged. "She said she had to think about if she wants me around. Which, believe me, I get. It's been over a week, and she hasn't gotten back to me, though, so maybe...I don't know, maybe she's decided."

 

He considered this for a moment before telling him, "look, I know it seems bleak. And hell, I don't know if I would still wanna hang out with you if you treated me the way you've been treating her these past couple of months, but...Don't abandon all hope yet."

 

"What makes you say that?" He really was starting to lose any belief that she might not just never speak to him again. 

 

"Because as much as you've royally fucked up, I'm betting anything she's hoping you'll figure out how to make it up to her."

 

"Yeah, maybe," he said. 

 

Then he got a text. 

 

_imessage: clarke_

 

 **Clarke:** thanks for giving me space. i'm sorry i kind of left you hanging...actually, i'm not. i know i'm the one texting you, but i still don't know if i can even talk to you anymore. 

 

Bellamy looked up and realized Miller had been reading over his shoulder. 

 

"That's a toughie," he said.

 

He gave him an incredulous look. "That's toughie?" He repeated. "Help me, please, the fuck do I say?"

 

"How am I supposed to know how to fix your life? One must battle their own demons and all that." 

 

"I don't need you to be Yoda right now, I need you to tell me what to tell her," he fired back. 

 

Miller put up his hands. "You got yourself into the shit pile. You have to dig yourself out. Besides, me and Jackson are going to that new drink while you paint place."

 

He picked up his keys and gave him a thumbs up. 

 

"You're a horrible friend," Bellamy shouted at the other as he opened the door and walked out of the apartment. 

 

Then he went back to staring at his phone. There were a million things he wanted to say, but he didn't know which one would be the right one. 

 

 **Bellamy:**  it's the least i could do after everything. i know i said i needed you in my life, but it's okay if you don't need me in yours. i'll accept whatever you decide. 

 

While not speaking to her, or seeing her, or being a part of her life would be awful, he would, if that's what she wanted. Ever since he'd found out about her and Murphy, he hadn't been fair to her. Or him. He'd been a dick and had hurt her because he couldn't deal with his own feelings. He had been so caught up in how he was feeling, he'd let himself completely forget what impact those feelings had on the people he cared about most. 

 

For a while, he didn't think she was going to text back, and that would be it. 

 

 **Clarke:**  i don't know where to start, honestly. i mean, i don't know if i want you in my life. i haven't decided yet but...i'm open to at least seeing you and i guess talking. 

 

 **Bellamy:** ok. whenever you want is fine. just let me know. 

 

 **Clarke:**  Murphy's working late at the restaurant tonight. you can come over if you want. 

 

It took him a moment to reply, only because he'd been expecting her to give her a couple more days or not even give him a date at all, let alone telling him to come over then. 

 

 **Bellamy:** yeah, that's great. i'll be over in 20. 

 

He would admit to absolutely no one that he changed his shirt three times. He didn't know why he was flipping out. She had said herself she wasn't sure she wanted to know him anymore, that she hadn't decided. But he'd never been any good at restraining himself when it came to Clarke. Despite that, he would have to do his best when he saw her. 

 

The entire walk to her place, he tried to calm himself down, and figure out what the hell he was going to say. 

 

When she let him in, he didn't know what to do with himself. He stuck his hands in pockets just for something to do. 

 

It seemed she didn't either, and the two of them stood there awkwardly for a moment, before she asked, "you want something to drink?" 

 

"Uh, yeah," he rubbed at the back of his neck, "water would be good."

 

She nodded, and he followed her into the kitchen and got two glasses from the cabinet. 

 

"So..." she trailed off. 

 

"I don't even know how to begin to apologize," he said. 

 

She set down the glasses and pushed one towards him, but didn't say anything. 

 

He swallowed. "What I did to you? It's awful, and it wasn't like I've been that great of a friend these last few months, but if I could take it back, I would."

 

"Well, you can't," she replied. 

 

He felt all the hope, which he hadn't even known he was still able to possess at that point, go out of him. 

 

"I know."

 

It was the truth. As much as he wanted to go back and reverse the horrible thing he'd done, he couldn't. He had to face that, and whatever consequence it brought. If he didn't, then he wasn't just an ass and awful friend, he was something much worse. 

 

"If that's all you have to say, then..." She shook her head. 

 

"It's not," he said, more than a little panicked. Every part of him felt on edge and was tense, ready for her to kick him out whenever she chose. Every second that she didn't, that she allowed him to remain in front of her, was precious. He couldn't waste it. 

 

"I didn't handle any of the you and Murphy stuff well. I was an ass and pissed at you guys when I had no business being. I promised you I would respect you, and then I didn't. That's not just being a bad friend...It's being, I don't even know, a shitty human being. I'm sorry, and I know there's probably nothing I can say that will make it up to you..." He let out a sigh, "I'm not saying anything right or helpful here, am I? I'm just so sorry, Clarke, and I'm trying to not fuck everything up more than I already have. I don't know the right thing to say, and I don't want to say the wrong one. Just...tell me what you need, and I'll do everything I can to do it."

 

She took a long sip from her water and looked up at him. It was difficult to read her, and he wondered if she hadn't been so easy for him to read before because she had always let him. Now, maybe she didn't anymore, and even the possibility of that fact made him hate himself more than he ever thought possible.

 

"I thought we were supposed to be best friends, you know? And I get that...Me and Murphy have messed with things a little and it isn't the easiest thing to understand, but I asked you, when this first started, that if you couldn't agree with my choice, you'd respect it. As you just told me, you said you would, and then you didn't. I just...I don't think you've ever lied to me before, Bellamy, and I don't know how to let that go."

 

"I know. I let you down, Clarke, I let our friendship go to shit because I couldn't deal with things, and I know I don't deserve it anymore." He didn't have much belief in where the situation was going, given her words, that anything could be okay for them, but he wasn't angry with her. She had every right to not want him around. He was just...Kind of devastated. Not even kind of, if he really looked at how he was feeling. Completely. He was completely devastated. 

 

She shifted her weight, and he was sure this was the part where she told him to leave and get the fuck out of her life for good. 

 

"You probably don't," she replied. 

 

He felt a little bit like he was dying, even though, really, he should've expected this. Still, it was one thing to go into this conversation knowing she had every right to not want to be his friend anymore, and a whole other to face the reality of it. 

 

"I don't _want_ to want you in my life, you know?" She chewed on her lip and it took her a moment before she said anything else. "I've been going back and forth this entire week. I've been thinking: he's a jerk, and he hurt you on purpose when he was supposed to be your friend, you shouldn't let him back in, and the smart move is to cut him out, but..." She didn't finish. 

 

He didn't think his heart was beating anymore, or if it was, it was beating way too fast for him to even register it. 

 

When she still didn't add anything else, he asked, "but?"

 

"I still hate you," she said before continuing, "you need to know that before I say...Anything else, okay?"

 

He nodded. 

 

"I don't know if I can forgive you, given what happened. I'm still processing everything, really." She swallowed, and he was scared she was going to cry. It wasn't that he didn't think he could handle it, he'd seen her cry before, but he didn't think he'd ever be the one to make her cry and the idea that he might've...It was impossible to imagine that she could forgive him after that. 

 

She took a breath. "Despite all of that, I think I might be willing to let you try."

 

It took a moment for her words to register, for the reality of them to hit him. She wasn't forgiving him, wasn't saying that things could ever be the way they were between them, but she wasn't expelling him from her life either. She was giving him a chance, one that he didn't know if he deserved, but one nonetheless. Before she'd said that, he'd felt kind of like Atlas, as cliché as it all was. He'd felt so weighed down by his own actions and decisions, and the possibility that she could so easily rid herself of him. Really, it shouldn't have shocked him that it was her that took away the pain. It was surprising to him though that it was such a simple statement that effectively made him have hope once more. He probably shouldn't have let it get to him as much as it did, but he couldn't bring himself to check his emotions or even begin to care to. 

 

"That's all I could ever ask for," he replied. The words didn't feel like enough, and he wanted to say more, to profess his thank yous and gratitude, but it felt like too much pressure on her, too many expectations for her to ultimately agree to have him in her life, and that wouldn't have been right. 

 

She finished her water and put the glasses in the sink. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she said, "well, okay...I'm willing to hang out. So, you can come to game night this week, if you want. And if we go to Grounders, you don't have to feel like you can't go. But I'm not sure I'm ready to spend time together just the two us. Not yet."

 

"I understand," he said and started walking out of the kitchen. 

 

She followed him out.

 

Before he left though, he turned around and faced her. "I know you probably don't have any hope for this, for me, and really, I don't know if I do either, but since you've decided to give me a chance, I promise I won't waste it."

 

She looked at her shoes. "I wouldn't say that I have no hope." 

 

He furrowed his brow. "Really?"

 

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe it's pathetic...But I might have just a little bit of hope." 

 

"It's not pathetic," he immediately replied, "but...How?"

 

She shrugged. "Because it's _you_."

 

He didn't really know what to do with that. A part of him wanted to feel some kind of joy or hope or whatever emotion Clarke was able to bring out in him at any given time, but he also felt he didn't really deserve it. Not yet, but if she had hope, then he was going to do whatever it took to make her not have faith in nothing. 

 

There was nothing he felt he could say at that moment that would help fix things. So, he offered her a soft smile, and said, "thank you, Clarke," and he left her alone. 

* * *

Murphy didn't know why Raven had asked him if they could get a drink at Grounders, just the two of them. He was still kind of pissed at her and couldn't even begin to understand why she'd done what she had, but he figured he'd gotten as much of an apology as he was ever going to. He wasn't holding his breath for anything more. In all honesty, he was hesitant to go. Things had been fine between the two of them, sure, but still awkward. Maybe that was on him, but he figured since it was her fault things had gone bad in the first place, he had every right to do so, even if he was milking it more than he probably needed to. 

 

Raven was already there when he arrived at the bar, so he got himself a drink and slid into the booth. 

 

"What is this about?" He asked. 

 

When he'd gotten the text from her, he didn't know what to think about it. He'd asked Clarke about how things had gone down when she'd had coffee with the other. She'd explained that while things certainly weren't perfect between the two, and she hadn't fully gotten over Raven's words at the party, she thought that she would be able to forgive her eventually. That was the reason he'd decided it might be worth meeting up with Raven at the bar. He wasn't going to get his hopes up, but maybe, she actually felt bad enough about what she'd done to keep trying to make it right. 

 

"No 'how are you,' Murphy, I'm so shocked," she replied, but there wasn't nearly as much teasing in her voice as there normally was. It fell a bit flat, mostly because he didn't give her anything back. Which, he knew was a little bit petty, but he couldn't resist. She was, after all, seemingly at his mercy at the moment. 

 

He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I had a long fucking day, Reyes."

 

She stiffened a little and sat up straighter. It took her a second to reply, "alright, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

 

He held up a hand to stop her from saying more. While he felt bad for snapping at her, he knew he wouldn't apologize for it. "Forget it. I didn't mean to...Why'd you need to talk to me alone so bad?"

 

"I was an asshole to you, and I'm really sorry-" she started, but he cut her off. He didn't really know why he did, maybe because accepting the fact that she still had the ability to hurt him, that she still had any kind of influence on him, was too much to think about. 

 

"Raven, let's not do this again, okay? It is what it is." He expected her to give in after that, to let it go as he asked. Raven may have been stubborn, but she wasn't one to grovel, wasn't one to pursue something that seemed hopeless. Really, it was his fault that he figured she had the ability to stop surprising him. 

 

"But it shouldn't be," she insisted, "it shouldn't be the end because...Then it'll never be right. We'll never be friends like we were before, which, I guess...Maybe you want?"

 

He considered this for a moment. Did he really want that? Maybe right after she'd torn into him, but when he thought about a world in which the two of them weren't friends, or in her words, whatever weird pseudo-friendship they'd developed...It felt wrong. Not just because he'd grown used to their mutual teasing and similar taste in quality tv, but she had been a part of his life for so long. In many different forms, at that. But he liked the form where they were friends the most. 

 

"It might've been," he admitted and tried not to let it get to him that she gulped and was looking at him with these wide, scared eyes he'd only seen a couple of times before, and never for him. "But...What can I say? You've gotten under my skin, and maybe, _maybe_ hating you forever, making things weird between us forever, is more trouble than it's worth. Besides, if Clarke is willing to let you try, I don't know, maybe I am too."

 

She brightened considerably at that, but there was still some hesitation, something in her that willed her to hold back. "Most definitely," she agreed, "and I know it doesn't do much...That words can only prove how much I want to make things right, but the things I said to you? They were wrong and cruel. I took my own personal shit out on you because...Well, as you've pointed out before, I sure am great at handling feelings. I'm so sorry, Murphy. And I promise I won't ever let that, whatever the hell, that demon out again."

 

He couldn't help it, he laughed a little at the last part. "I don't know if I'll expect that. After all, that demon can be quite charming sometimes. When it doesn't want to be hellbent on ruining your life." 

 

She shrugged. "Yeah, too bad it has seemed particularly interested in doing that these last couple of months."

 

He nodded, not quite sure where to take that. She was right, after all. 

 

"Shaw didn't just bail at the party," she said, and he frowned, "he dumped my ass."

 

"Ah, that'll do it." It made sense, given how he'd noticed things had been between them lately. Still, he didn't believe it could actually change anything for the two of them. After all, she would never feel that way about him, even if she had been a bitch about him and Clarke. 

 

"Yeah...I mean, looking back, I get it. I wasn't a very good girlfriend. And...I was never going to fall in love with him." That was certainly a statement, one that he didn't know how to fully process. He'd figured that while Shaw and Raven had had their issues, that she had loved him this entire time. To find out she hadn't made him a little dizzy. Not that he should've let it, but he had never been any good controlling himself or his thoughts when it came to her. He eventually gained some kind of control back though and was able to form a response. 

 

"I'm sorry."

 

She waved a hand. "I know we don't talk about that kind of thing, and believe me, we don't need to now, but I don't know...I was a disaster that night because of a lot of reasons. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that you and Clarke are my friends, and I took my pain out on you, and that's not okay." 

 

He wasn't expecting her to keep going, but it did feel kind of nice, to hear that even though she'd been hurting, it didn't excuse the things she'd said. The tone in her voice, the severity, and vulnerability there, it convinced him that she meant it too. 

 

"Don't get all blubbery on me, alright?" He asked. While he appreciated the fact that she wanted to make things better, they didn't get too deep into the emotions stuff. It wasn't their thing, and he didn't think they needed to start now. "I know that, okay? I mean, it's nice to hear you say it all though and to be honest, I really didn't think you were ever gonna do this so..."

 

"That...Says a lot about my character, doesn't it?" She looked sadder than he'd seen her in a while, probably since their talk about Abby. 

 

"Maybe," he replied, "but...I think it also says a lot about you that you want to make it right."

 

"Really?" She asked, and he shrugged. 

 

"Not saying that you have already, or anything, but you want to try. That must mean something." He didn't want to comfort her, he told himself. He wanted to make her suffer even more, though he knew that was kind of a dick move. Still, when it came down to do it, when he had her at her most vulnerable, he couldn't do it. If he was being honest with himself, he probably didn't really want to. 

 

 "I hope it does, and I do. I want to make it better, or at least, do everything I can to make it better. I know it won't just happen like that, but...Thank you, for letting me try," she finished. 

 

He had never been good at receiving thank yous. Probably because they were rarely directed at him without some kind of sarcasm, and a sincere thank you from Raven? He definitely didn't know how to process that. 

 

"Yeah, well," he said after a moment, "I'd prefer to watch Peaky Blinders without all the awkward tension. God knows we wouldn't even finish the season before we had to quit, and I don't think I can bear to not have that show in my life."

 

She laughed a little, and that made him feel actual hopeful about the two of them. Something that he hadn't even thought was possible after everything had gone down at Abby's party. 

 

He checked his phone. "Shit," he said. "I've gotta go if that's alright."

 

She nodded and finished off her beer. "Of course, no problem. Where you off to?"

 

He felt a little awkward replying and in the moment he took to answer, she waved a hand and told him, "not that you have to tell me or anything."

 

"No, it's fine..." He trailed off. "I'm trying to teach Clarke how to cook, we're supposed to start tonight."

 

She snorted. "Teaching Clarke how to cook? Isn't that a recipe for disaster?"

 

He rolled his eyes, but felt a smile spread on his lips without even having to think about it. "Recipe for disaster? Really? That's the best you got? It's just lazy."

 

She swatted his shoulder. "It was right there. How was I supposed to not reach out and take that?"

 

"I don't know, maybe any kind of self-control to not be a total cheeseball?" 

 

"Whatever. Enjoy your fruitless pursuit," she said as they walked out of the bar. 

 

"I always do," he fired back. 

 

He didn't know entirely what he felt about Raven's apology, about the fact that she appeared even desperate to make their friendship right. It freaked him out a little, that she actually cared that much. Before the party, he hadn't known, and after, he'd figured he'd been right not to think that she did. Maybe he knew it on some level, that she genuinely liked their weird dynamic, but he hadn't allowed himself to consider it. Especially not when he'd been busy falling in love with her. It seemed too impossible, and he was never one to get his hopes up, never one to let himself consider the possibility of things working out in his favor. That had never been his life, and so, he had developed a view of the world in which he did not get what he wanted. While Raven had certainly fucked up, and if he allowed himself to look too closely at the situation, had hurt him, the fact that he now knew that she valued him, that she wanted to be in his life...It filled him with maybe not happiness, but some kind of expectation. Like maybe things would be okay between them one day, and when they were, he wouldn't be the only one grateful for it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell with me @detectivebellamyblake on tumblr


	13. Sweet Dreams are Made of This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my loves!! this chapter...it's kind of a wild ride, but it was so fun to write, and it a lot more lighthearted than the last couple of ones have been. that said, there's still some angst beneath the surface haha. 
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading, commenting, or leaving kudos. it is incredibly inspiring and wonderful to me, and i'm so grateful to have lucked into such amazing readers. i hope you enjoy!!

Murphy's birthday had arrived, and while he knew he was being a little bitch about it, he wasn't looking forward to it. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Clarke's friend from study abroad Luna had decided to make a last-minute stop in Arkadia during her U.S. road trip, which effectively squashed any remaining hope that her promise during game night those months ago had been serious. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up that she had been, and he wasn't interested in holding it over her head, but he couldn't help but pout a little on the way to Mt. Weather. It also didn't mean that his friends weren't willing to tease him about it. 

 

"Aw, don't cry now, Murphy, we'll get you drunk so you can forget all about how sad you are that the threesome was but a dream," Miller taunted from across Jackson, who smirked. 

 

"Fuck you, Miller," he fired back. 

 

"Don't get snippy with us now, it's not our fault Luna decided to show up and stay for tonight, of all nights," Raven joined in from behind them.

 

Bellamy didn't say anything, but he wasn't scowling, he had managed to even crack a small smile. Murphy decided to tell Clarke that she could add another gold star to his name on their imaginary friendship chart. When she'd asked how many gold stars did he have to earn in order for her to be able to consider him her friend again, Murphy told her, "infinite," which made her laugh. 

 

"I think I see the beginning of a tear, you guys!" Jasper practically squealed. 

 

"Murphy, capable of crying?" Monty asked, "only over the loss of a threesome."

 

"If you need to hold my hand, I wouldn't mind," Harper jumped in. 

 

He wanted to kill all of his friends, he really did. 

 

Things had been better since he and Raven made moves to make good though, and since Clarke had told him about the conversation she'd had with Bellamy. They certainly weren't perfect, but it'd been over a month, and nothing had exploded yet. He took that as a win. When Clarke had asked him if it was alright if she asked Bellamy to come to his birthday at the club, he'd been a little surprised that she asking him for permission. 

 

"As long as you're cool with it," he'd said. 

 

She'd nodded. "I am. I just...wanted to check. I know he's come to game night and Grounders without it being a big deal, but...This would be the first big thing since everything happened."

 

"I'm not the one he fucked with." While he and Bellamy perhaps hadn't been on the best of terms at the party, they weren't the ones that'd been feuding. He might've been pissed at the other on Clarke's behalf, but he wasn't really upset with anything he'd done to him. 

 

"It's cool with me if you don't want him around for that, it would make sense, you know. Since the last time we were at a party he didn't exactly handle himself well."

 

"You're right," she'd replied, "but I'm letting him try, and maybe...This could be a kind of test run?" She'd run a hand over her forehead. "God, does that sound awful?" 

 

"Not in the slightest."

 

She'd smiled softly and gave him a quick kiss. They hadn't been super affectionate like that before, so it'd caught him a little off-guard. Still, they'd gone on four official dates, and the sex was still good. He wouldn't consider that really 'dating' but things were fun, and seemed to be working for them both.

 

"Thanks, means a lot. You know, you could tell him you've been kind of his champion this whole time. Might make him feel even worse than he already does."

 

He'd dismissed the thought, even if it would be fun. "I wouldn't exactly call me his champion, considering I've been telling you it's fine if you never speak to him again this entire time."

 

"Maybe," she'd mused, "but you were also the one that told me to stop being such a baby and text him and hear him out. If you hadn't, we never would've gotten this far, even though it doesn't seem like much."

 

He'd shrugged. "I did that for you."

 

"Whatever you say," she'd replied, a little bit of a sing-song quality to her tone. 

 

Choosing to ignore it, he'd gone back to making them dinner. Maybe her words had some truth to them. While of course, he wanted Clarke to do what she knew was best for her, he couldn't help but pity his friend a little. He'd hadn't seen it clearly before, had been too caught up in his own feelings for Raven, but he'd gotten a pretty clear idea of why Bellamy had done what he had. It wasn't just the average alpha male jealousy bullshit. It was something more, and he'd wondered why he hadn't picked up on it sooner. There was the added complication of Clarke's feelings, of the desire to keep her protected, but he figured if the other did return those feelings, then he owed it to both of those idiots to see if they couldn't repair what was broken between them. This meant that he was, objectively, trying to set up the girl he was sort-of dating with one of his friends, but he'd faced more complicated situations before. Besides, he wasn't sure if Clarke would even let Bellamy be her friend again, let alone more. He'd figured until she knew, he could ride out the experience without too much trouble. 

 

They arrived at the club and scrambled out, with Raven complaining that she'd been cramped in the back and her leg was aching. 

 

"It doesn't feel too bad though, does it?" He asked, hating the edge of worry in his voice. 

 

"Relax, I just want you guys to feel guilty for beating me at rock-paper-scissors."

 

He did his best, but he noticed the slight strain in her step as they got in line, which of course, went around the corner.  

 

"This, this is why we don't come here," Harper practically groaned and Emori nodded, muttering about she might just threaten the people in front of them to get them to scram. 

 

Clarke texted him that she and Luna were five minutes away, and in that time, he only thought about punching Jasper three times for his snide little comments about how he wasn't going to get laid on his birthday. He was proud of himself, really. 

 

When they did show up, Luna was hard not to take note of, wearing skin-tight jeans and a glittery top that looked more like a bandana than an actual shirt. 

 

"Hey," Clarke greeted and gave him a light kiss and made him feel a little more petulant about the fact that they wouldn't be getting much more than that for the night. No matter if Luna was crashing on the pull-out, he figured that Clarke would feel too weird with one of her friends that close to them to sleep together. 

 

Even though it only lasted a minute, it earned enough hoots and hollers from their friends. Murphy flipped them off and Clarke chuckled and then introduced everyone to Luna. 

 

Raven already knew her apparently, and Luna's eyes scanned the other's body, which made her blush a little, something that was virtually unheard of; he narrowed his eyes and looked between the two. 

 

"We hung out when I was visiting Clarke," Raven explained to everyone else.

 

At that, Luna threw back her head and laughed. "You Americans are so funny!" Her accent liting around the words, and she shook her head, curls bouncing. "Raven is a very good kisser," she told them all.

 

Jasper's eyes bugged out of his head and Miller grinned, sliding his eyes over to Raven. 

 

That made her blush even more. "Thank you, Luna." The other waved a hand and shrugged. 

 

Meanwhile, Murphy was doing everything in his power to breathe like a normal person and try not to be too jealous that this stunning stranger had gotten to kiss her and he hadn't.

 

"You okay?" Clarke asked, raising a brow. 

 

He nodded and gave a weak smile. 

 

She giggled a little and poked at his side. "And the night hasn't even really begun yet," she teased. 

 

He wasn't able to formulate a response to that, and it turned out he didn't have to since they finally reached the front of the line. Despite the bouncer's disapproving look at Jasper's, well, _everything_ , they all managed to get inside. Luna pulled Clarke off to get drinks for everyone, the two of them babbling away in French. 

 

He didn't know much about the other woman, besides the fact that Clarke had met her through a friend of hers during her study abroad year. She was an artist, whose parent's were also artists, and lived in some sort of colony type deal in Paris and she had only been to a real school for a couple of years when she was a kid. She was beautiful, but Clarke hadn't mentioned that the two of them had ever been more than just friends. Or that she and Raven had history. 

 

"So," he turned to Raven, "Luna, huh?"

 

She rolled her eyes. "I said I experimented when I was in Paris, didn't I?" 

 

"Just didn't take you going for the hippy type," he replied. 

 

"Me neither, but when in Paris..." She shrugged. 

 

He grinned and shook his head.

 

Clarke and Luna returned with enough tequila shots for all of them, and two for him. 

 

Everyone started to jeer then about how it was the only present he was getting out of any of them, and he said, "fuck you," no less than four times in the span of two minutes. 

 

"I think he's getting something a little more than a tequila shot," Clarke said and offered a grin. 

 

"Aw, you get him a teddy bear, too?" Octavia asked. 

 

Clarke narrowed her eyes at them for a moment. It seemed to click for her, and she stifled a laugh against her fist. Then she looked over at Luna, who burst out laughing. It seemed the woman found nearly everything they did absolutely hilarious. 

 

"I'm sorry...Are we missing something?" Jackson had this puzzled look on his face as if he was trying to piece something together though and hadn't quite gotten it. 

 

"Honestly, you should've worn a big red bow, then maybe they would've gotten it," Clarke told Luna, who rolled her eyes and smirked. 

 

Murphy stuttered. "Wait...You mean," and then he motioned between himself, Clarke, and Luna. 

 

The blonde nodded enthusiastically. "Happy Birthday, Murphy!" Her voice taking on a sing-song quality. When none of them seemed to be able to put together a response, she blushed and added, "I thought you guys all knew."

 

Then his brain caught up to the words that she was saying, and he couldn't stop himself from smirking. His face must've really lit up because she started laughing and shoved him playfully. 

 

"You said your friends were smart," Luna had raised her brows, and then she added, "I'll get another round!"

 

She twirled around, flashing a wink at him before she disappeared towards the bar. Jasper followed quickly, offering his help, but not before he kissed Maya on the cheek. 

 

Then everyone descended on him and Clarke. It was even worse than when they thought he wasn't getting laid at all. 

 

He noticed Clarke was eyeing Bellamy carefully, probably searching for some kind of judgment or something. When she found none, she brightened considerably, even more so when the other clapped Murphy on the shoulder and gave him a wink. 

 

Jasper teased that maybe he would cry tears of joy for them now while Miller cut in that he would surely save those tears for the bedroom. Harper said it seemed he wouldn't need to hold her hand after all since his were clearly going to be full for the evening. Monty reminded him not to drink too much, lest he not, "rise to the occasion," before him. 

 

Raven stuttered a little, managing to get out, "my Luna? Seriously?" 

 

He grinned at that, finding the fact that he was going to get with someone that she already had put him in an even more incredible mood than he thought possible. 

 

Clarke shrugged. "I didn't realize she was yours. You guys made out, like, three times? It's not a big deal, right?" She turned serious for a moment, and he worried about yet another fight breaking out. They had barely moved past the last one with all of their friendships still intact. 

 

There was a moment of hesitation there that he wasn't sure if anyone else saw, but eventually, she replied, "of course not," Raven waved a hand. "I mean, it's this one's birthday right," she nodded towards him, "who am I to deny a man's first threesome."

 

Clarke smiled at that, and he felt the slight tension that had been in the air go out. 

 

"Thank you, Reyes, wouldn't be able to forgive you if you did," he told her. 

 

She bumped her shoulder with his and was about to reply, probably teasing him even more, when Jasper and Luna arrived with more drinks. They held four fishbowls of Tequila Sunrises between them. Miller and Bellamy made a big show of denying to drink them out of concern for their masculinity, but with enough goading, both of them tried it. 

 

"Fuck," Miller muttered darkly, "that shit has no business being as good as it is." Bellamy didn't say so, but Murphy could tell that he agreed. 

 

They finished off the fishbowls, but somehow, drinks just kept appearing in front of him. Though, he was cautious to not get too drunk. The last thing he wanted was to pass out in the Uber home and not even be able to enjoy his birthday present. After all, he'd heard Clarke explaining that Luna had taken a detour in her U.S. road trip specifically so that she could spend the night at their place. 

 

A familiar song that he couldn't place the name of came on, and Luna jumped up. "I love this one, let's dance," she grabbed Clarke's hand in hers but he stumbled a little when she jerked him along in the other. "I figure this can be our warm-up, no?" She grinned wickedly and tugged him along. 

 

He looked back fleetingly at the rest of them, his eyes landing on Raven and Bellamy, both of whom were laughing. It felt good to know that they weren't going to glowered at that night, and he felt the last of his tension he didn't realize he'd been holding ease out of his shoulders. Raven made a shooing motion with her hands, and he rolled his eyes, then proceeded to follow the other two women out onto the dance floor. 

 

He should've known that Luna and Clarke would be the death of him, though, really, he would've preferred if they'd waited until the bedroom. Still, death on the dancefloor wasn't such a bad way to go. Back in college, he used to make fun of Clarke for never letting loose, and more than once referred to her to having a pole up her ass, but she was certainly destroying any notion of that shit at the moment. They both were all over him, which he certainly couldn't complain about. Still, he was less than handling things cooly, something which Luna pointed out in a hushed tone that shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did. 

 

But song after song came on, and he found himself able to relax, losing himself in their movements and finally feeling the number of drinks he'd had that night kick-in. This year hadn't built up to being a birthday he'd enjoy, let alone one he'd want to remember, but he figured with Clarke and Luna dancing beside him, that there was hope for it yet. 

* * *

Bellamy, despite the factors that he figured would make him feel different, was really enjoying himself at Mt. Weather. They had managed to procure a table in one of the corners. They'd all been surprised when Emori had texted them that she'd been victorious in finding a space that could fit them all. 

 

When they approached though, he noticed a very glittery and tiara-sporting bachelorette party glaring daggers at them. He raised a brow at Emori, who shrugged. 

 

"Carrying a switchblade comb has its perks."

 

Miller snorted at that and Monty looked at the other warily. 

 

"Let's try not to get kicked out when we just got here," he told her. 

 

She raised a brow. "Please, like that lot has the balls to turn me in."

 

He was about to add that they might be a bit more trouble than they were worth when Miller choked mid-drink, seeing something on the dance floor. 

 

"Holy shit," Jasper breathed out, and the rest of them followed his eye to the dance floor, where Luna and Murphy danced on either side of Clarke. There was barely any space between any of them. He gulped a little, despite himself.

 

"Is this real life?" Jasper continued, "or is this porn?"

 

Both Murphy and Luna bent to trail their mouths across Clarke's throat, and Monty added, "porn. Definitely porn."

 

He could feel Raven's eyes on him after a moment, but when he shot her a glance, she just shrugged. "Looks like they're having fun," she said and he nodded. 

 

While he felt a little flare of jealousy, deep in his stomach, there was no anger towards any of them. Just the thought he wanted to be close to Clarke like that, but he didn't want to punch anything or anyone. It was something he was getting used to, the fact that he could still want Clarke, still be in love with her, but know that he couldn't be upset with her for simply living her life. He found it wasn't even difficult, these days. He was so grateful that she was allowing him in her life at all, anything that managed to make her happy, made him happy, too.

 

They devolved into making fun of Clarke and Murphy for a bit, and he didn't even find it all that difficult to join in with his own jeers. One such remark had Jasper snorting out a margarita and he felt himself grin.

 

"Hey, it's our turn to get the drinks," Raven said, nudging him in the shoulder. 

 

Trying to remember what everyone wanted, he placed their order, after waiting seemingly forever to get up to the bar, and then asked Raven how everything was going with work. 

 

They talked easily for a bit, but then a guy complimented Raven on her top, a pathetic excuse, as he was clearly looking to flirt, but she seemed to go along with it as well. Still waiting for the drinks, a girl nearby made eye contact and blushed. He figured nothing would come of it, but she came over and introduced herself. Bree. She was pretty, too. A little shorter than him and blonde hair that was done up in an intricate braid. She had gray eyes that wrinkled up at the corners when she laughed, which was often, even though he knew he wasn't being _that_ funny. They talked for a little while, maybe even bordered the line on flirting, but when she made a clear indication that she was looking for him to ask her for his number or to dance, he didn't bite. She got the message eventually, flipping her hair, and said it was nice to meet him, not too unkindly, either. 

 

"What was that?" Raven asked, a slightly mocking tone in her voice. The guy she'd been talking to was nowhere to be found. "I know you have better game than whatever that was."

 

He shrugged. Maybe he could've flirted with Bree, could've even taken her home or texted her. Maybe they could've gone out on a couple of dates, and had a good time. But he knew before he'd even known her name, that it was never going to go anywhere serious. He couldn't do that again. It wasn't fair to her or Clarke, or maybe even him. 

 

"Why bother?" Was his reply. 

 

That earned him a snort. "Because she's dating someone else? Because, at this moment, she happens to be dancing with two other people that are not you, both of whom she's going home with? I mean, right now, she has more of a chance of marrying Murphy than you?" She shrugged, "because you don't wanna die alone?"

 

He eyed her warily. "I already tried that route. That really worked out well for everyone."

 

Raven couldn't seem to quit it though but he wondered who she was trying to convince more, him or herself, "but...She may never want it to be that way. Hell, she barely allows the two of you to be friends." She was giving him a look that was bordering on pity. "So, you're really just gonna die alone?"

 

His eyes had found Clarke again, which seemed to happen without him even thinking about it. Murphy was spinning her around, and she had thrown back her head and was laughing. It had been a while since she had looked that happy, and she deserved it. 

 

He flashed a smile at the other woman, nodding. "Yep."

 

She choked out a laugh. "You do realize how sad that is, right?"

 

Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't think of it that way."

 

A brow raised, she said, "You don't." It wasn't a question. 

 

"Nope."

 

"And how's that?" She asked. 

 

"I love her," he said simply as if he had admitted to it a thousand times before, though Raven's eyes bulged out just a little, "and I want her to be happy, and if Murphy makes her happy, then that's good. But I'm not gonna involve someone else again in my shit. I'm not gonna use another person to hide from how I feel about her. It was fucked up enough to do it once. Maybe one day I'll get to the place where I can move on, but until that happens, I'm fine with how things are," he gave her a wry smile, "even if that means dying alone."

 

"Fuck," Raven spat, she took a sip from her drink, which had finally arrived, "guess that makes two of us, then," she said. 

 

He chuckled a little. "Next thing I know, you'll ask me to move in."

 

"Shit!" She exclaimed and he frowned at her. "I was supposed to ask you tonight."

 

"Ask me what?"

 

"To move in," she replied, "Monroe's girlfriend finally asked her to move into her place, so....I've got the space."

 

He scoffed. "Wait, you're serious? Not just too many mojitos in and gonna regret this in the morning?"

 

She nodded. "It'll be perfect. Besides, Miller and Jackson are ready to throw your shit out the window," at his squawk of protest, she patted him on the shoulder, "and don't you miss sleeping on an actual bed?"

 

He relented. "Alright, you've got a point. I don't really have that much stuff anyway, in light of everything. So, is tomorrow too soon?" 

 

She frowned at him and then started laughing. "You walked in on Miller and Jackson and can't wait to get out there, huh?"

 

He twitched a little. "Some things you can't unsee, Raven."

 

Shoving him a little, she nodded towards their table. "Let's get these drinks over to them, I'm sure they're dying from the lack of alcohol in their systems."

 

Emori cheered when they managed to get back over to their table and Maya beamed when Raven passed her a Rum and Coke. 

 

Monty took a sip from his drink, and commented, "we were thinking of sending out a search party."

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes and grumbled about how they should all just shut up and enjoy their drinks. 

 

"The trio gave their goodbyes while you guys were on your five-year-long journey," Harper said, playing with her straw. 

 

Raven feigned a shudder. "We should make sure they disinfect that house before any of us dares to set foot in their place again."

 

He snorted. "Please, as if they haven't already had sex in every room of that house."

 

Jasper choked a little on his drink at that, and Maya patted him lightly on the back. 

 

The rest of them set out dancing for a while, leaving him a little breathless. He was glad Raven and Emori were there, so it wasn't so bad to be surrounded by couples. When it was time to leave, Raven offered up her spare bedroom. "It's gonna be yours tomorrow, anyways," she said, as she tapped on her phone, getting them an Uber. 

 

The Uber driver was playing a lot of Britney Spears on the way to Raven's and she mocked him mercilessly for humming along. He blamed the Tequila Sunrises. When they got into her apartment, after she dropped her keys twice, turning around to smack him on the shoulder when he started laughing at her, she got them both beers from the fridge and flopped onto the couch. There were reruns of some sitcom on, one he'd seen only a handful of times, but Raven had seen all of it and broke down the plot rather well. 

 

They were both laughing at something that probably wouldn't have been nearly as funny if they hadn't been drunk, when Raven turned to him and said in between laughs, "you wanna have sex?"

 

He eyed her warily and then burst out laughing. "Because that would make this whole situation less complicated?"

 

She shook her head, blushing a little but still smiling. "You're right." She sighed. "I guess I'm just...It's lonely," after a moment she added, "Wanting him makes me feel so lonely sometimes." 

 

"Well, now you've got yourself an excellent new roommate who also happens to be tragically into someone that's in a relationship."

 

"Very true. But...We're not gonna pull a Clarke and Murphy, are we?" She asked though he knew she already knew the answer.

 

He swept a hand through his curls. "'Fraid not. You got all you're gonna get of The Bellamy Blake all those years ago."

 

She snorted and gathered up the empty beer bottles. "Forget I said anything," she called over her shoulder, "I'm having a flashback and remembering I'm really not missing out on much."

 

"Ouch," he placed a hand over his chest, "you've wounded me."

 

"Whatever," she said, flippantly. 

 

He was still kind of laughing when she shoved him at the spare bedroom door. For the first time in a while, whether it was because of the booze or just having fun with Raven, he managed to get to sleep easily. 

* * *

"Luna _get off_ okay?" Jasper asked Clarke, smirking as he took a sip from his beer.

 

She rolled her eyes and raised a brow. "Seriously? That's the best you got?" She fired back. "I thought you guys would be more creative than this."

 

"Well," Harper cut in, "we were gonna make Murphy a big banner, 'Congrats on the Threesome,' but we ran out of glitter glue."

 

Monty nodded solemnly. "It was a real bummer. We thought about making a Micheals' trip, but figured giving you two shit would be just as fun."

 

She bumped her shoulder against Bellamy's, "what? No biting comments?" Maybe she was testing him still, just a little. 

 

He shrugged. "I take it you guys had a good time?'

 

She felt herself blush a little but managed a nod. 

 

"Then that's good, though I don't know if Murphy's heart would survive another visit from Luna."

 

At that, Murphy made a noise of protest, but she shot him a look and he relented. 

 

"You might have a point," he shot back. 

 

Murphy got roped into playing a game of pool, partnered up with Harper against Monty and Jasper. 

 

"Please, save me," he begged her, but she just grinned and shook her head. 

 

"Have fun," she took a sip from her beer and felt Bellamy laugh a little beside her. 

 

Jasper and Monty were doing some kind of weird work out to prepare for the game, which mostly involved punching the air like they were in one of the _Rocky_ movies. 

 

Harper was patting Murphy on the shoulder and jutted out her chin. Though the other two were notoriously bad at pool, they somehow managed to win half the time by psyching out whoever played against them with numerous jeers and other antics. 

 

For a while, things had been weird at Grounders, mostly because they had to rearrange themselves in the booth so that she and Bellamy sat on opposite sides and Raven and Murphy were as far from one another as they could manage. Over the last couple of weeks though, the tension that had been embedded within the group had eased considerably. This really wasn't due to anything she and Murphy had done, but rather, the work Bellamy and Raven had put in to ensure that they really wanted to make things better. Though she'd had to refrain from laughing at his jokes out of spite more than anything else, she was letting herself smile around him more and more. She took note of how Murphy wasn't nearly as tense around Raven anymore either. It didn't happen in one moment, nor was she completely comfortable around him as much as she'd been before, but things were starting to become good again.

 

"How long until Jasper manages to break yet another pool cue?" Bellamy asked.

 

She snorted out a little bit of beer and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "I give it the next game when Miller jumps in to do two-against-one." 

 

"I was gonna say fifteen minutes, tops," he nodded to his head where Jasper was whipping his cue around like it was a lightsaber. Monty was making sound effects. 

 

"Loser buys the other their next beer," she replied. 

 

He clinked his bottle against hers. "You're on."

 

They settled in to watch the game with anticipation. The silences had been uncomfortable between the two of them recently, but this one was the first time that it wasn't. It felt like it had used to, easy, like breathing. 

 

When Murphy knocked in two balls in one shot, Raven made another threesome joke, but she was grinning so much Clarke knew it wasn't meant to be taken too harshly. He flashed her a smile over his shoulder and then went back to trying to get Monty to miss his shot. The other woman's eye stayed on him just a moment too long, and Clarke didn't know if it was just her imagination or not, but she seemed to be blushing a little and there was something in her eye that she had only really seen her have around Finn. Still, she didn't really figure it out until Bellamy asked her about work, his eyes flitting over at Raven a little warily. It surprised her at first. But she understood the move for what it was. He hadn't been really that interested in whether Dante was still giving her shit (when wasn't he?) he had been trying to take her attention away from Raven looking at Murphy. 

 

She let him though, finding it easy enough to go on a tear about her boss. He was old, and pretty creepy, and was consistently trying to set her up with his son-who she suspected was a sociopath. 

 

He talked excitedly about this year's students. They were more into the material than the last year's had been, which made him even more enthusiastic than usual about teaching it to them. A little sheepishly, he'd admitted that the previous year had really done a number on him as a teacher, and it felt good to love going to work again. 

 

Somehow, they drifted to talking about her and Murphy, which they'd been carefully avoiding since that night at her place when she'd first decided to let him back into her life tentatively. 

 

"So," he tilted his head towards the pool table, where things were heating up, as much as they could at a bar, "that's still good?"

 

She was a little surprised that he was bringing it up but wondered if he was trying to signal to her that he really was okay with it. Nodding, she replied, "yeah. It's not serious or anything like that, but, I don't know, it's fun. He cooks me breakfast."

 

"Good to know you're not starving without me there," he grinned.

 

She poked him in the side. "Rude."

 

"Just honest," he shot back. 

 

"You gotta tell me one thing though," she frowned a little, but he went on, "whose pancakes are better?"

 

She didn't hesitate. "Yours. Hands down."

 

"Really?" He asked a little bit of awe in his tone.

 

"Murphy's are too fancy. Yours, on the other hand, are classic."

 

He ducked his head a little and rubbed the back of his neck, and she could tell that he was trying to hide his blush. 

 

"I'm serious," she continued, "his make me feel like I'm in some fancy place my mom dragged me to, and that I'm way underdressed, even in my own kitchen," she took a sip of her beer, "yours...I don't know, feel like home or something equally pathetic like that."

 

"Yeah?" He asked. 

 

She bumped her shoulder against his. "Try not to let it get to your head."

 

If he'd been embarrassed before, he was really blushing now. It was sort of adorable, and definitely worth the lie. She didn't even know why she lied about it. Murphy's pancakes were definitely superior. She'd already been proven wrong about that. Bellamy didn't need his ego boosted about his culinary skills, hell, he probably wouldn't have even been surprised if she'd told him that his weren't as good. He probably wouldn't have been upset about it, really. They were just pancakes. For some reason though, she wanted to lie, did it without even really thinking about it. It shouldn't have been so easy to lie, she thought. She just couldn't help it, and couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty about it. 

 

He was smiling so much after she'd said it, more than she'd seen in over a month-since everything went to hell. Maybe even earlier than that, when she thought about it. And it felt good between them, after. They talked easily, and she grinned when she won the bet on Jasper and ordered a ridiculously expensive beer, the kind that Miller liked, even though she didn't. Bellamy grumbled about it but bought it for her nonetheless, and they took turns sipping from it. 

 

It was probably the best everything had been between the two of them since before he got engaged. 

 

On the walk home, she kept trying to ask Murphy about Raven, but she realized that she didn't even know the right question to ask or how to phrase it. She also knew it wouldn't be right, to tell him something she only had an inkling about. If she was going to give him hope about Raven possibly returning his feelings, then she was going to be sure of it. 

 

Instead, she said, "you and Raven seem to be doing really well."

 

He nodded. "Yeah, her not being a bitch to me or you really does do wonders for a friendship."

 

"Haha," her tone was dry. "You're hilarious."

 

Smirking, he replied, "as always." After a moment, he added, "you and Bellamy seem to be doing better too, though."

 

She shrugged. "He does seem to be earning more and more gold stars these days." 

 

It was true. He'd been more enthusiastic than was really necessary about the whole thing. Sometimes to an overwhelming extent, to the point that she'd told him to cool it a little after a week. To his credit, he did back off. Still, that didn't stop him from finding opportunity after opportunity to prove to her that he was invested in making things up to her. From what she'd seen, Raven had done the same, for both her and Murphy. The two women had hung out a couple more times, just the two of them, and while she and Bellamy hadn't yet, she was thinking about maybe opening herself up to the idea. 

 

"You think we should show him the chart once it's completed?" 

 

"I thought he had to earn an infinite number of stars to be considered a friend again?" She asked, smirking a little. 

 

He shrugged. "Maybe he's approaching that."

 

She snorted, and he continued, "or not?"

 

"It's not that," she pushed the key into the lock and twisted it, "it's...I don't know. I think I can stop kidding myself and admit that I consider him a friend again, but...Maybe I don't quite trust him yet."

 

"Makes sense," he replied, "I don't know if me and Reyes are where we were before, either."

 

She cut a glance at him as they settled around the kitchen island, "you think we ever will be?" The slight vulnerability in her tone normally would've freaked her out if she was talking to anyone that wasn't Bellamy, but Murphy knew her well enough by now, had proven himself a damn good friend, and a pretty good semi-boyfriend. 

 

"I really don't know. But...Jesus, I can't believe I'm the one saying this, but I hope so. They're not too bad, you know? It's almost as if I'm remembering why I was actually friends with them. Before they were complete assholes."

 

And then she's laughing, shaking her head and thinking about how nice it felt at the bar that night. 

 

"Mr. Optimist," she said, "who would've known?"

 

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. As long as you don't tell anyone. Don't wanna ruin my rep."

 

"Rep?" She asked, incredulous, "you have a rep?"

 

"Shut up," he muttered and stalked away. 

 

Still, he went towards her bedroom, so she figured that was a win. 

* * *

Raven didn't know why Murphy insisted that _she_ take the extra ticket for the football game. She hadn't even known Murphy was a fan, and when she showed up at his place to find that he hadn't even managed to scrounge up a real jersey, she laughed. 

 

"Guess this whole game day thing was Clarke's idea, huh?" She asked, leaning onto the side of the house. 

 

He gave her a dark look and gave her a once over. She at least had a jersey from her favorite team member, and the team colors, blue and white, painted in two lines on her cheeks.

 

"She promised me booze and hot dogs," he replied, starting a death march down the street. 

 

"You're so easy," she muttered. 

 

They lived close enough to the stadium that they could walk there in about twenty minutes, and as Clarke had forked over her drink tickets she'd been hoarding for the past year, Raven figured neither one of them wanted to be saddled with driving. 

 

"At least I'm getting laid," he fired back.

 

She tilted her head to the side, and he narrowed his eyes at her for a second. 

 

"Unless..." He trailed off, and the look on his face made her laugh. 

 

She patted him on the chest and walked a little faster. "Nope, no one since Shaw, actually."

 

Was it just her imagination, or did he look a little relieved? Whatever, she decided. It didn't matter. He was getting laid plenty without her help, and it had been her getting too involved in that getting laid that had led to her life almost blowing up. She wasn't going to risk that again. Besides, she was totally fine with just being friends with him. 

 

"Oof," he blew out, and she shot him a glare. "Sorry? I just...I figured you were getting back out there, or whatever."

 

She shrugged. "I don't know...I guess I just don't wanna invest in something unless I know it's for real."

 

He snorted at that, and she bumped her shoulder against his. "Now," he said, "that's just pathetic."

 

"It is not! Besides, I am perfectly capable of handling my own needs." She winked at him, which might've made him a little bit flustered, not that she was paying attention. 

 

When they got to the stadium, it was swamped with drunk people, even though it was barely four in the afternoon. Tailgaters were hanging out in the parking lot, and Raven earned a couple of jeers, which she rolled her eyes at, but Murphy gave a few punctuated insults. She was used to being cat-called at this point, had just accepted it as part of her daily life, and barely even acknowledged them anymore. Even though it was a little excessive, Murphy's overprotectiveness felt a little comforting, though she suspected he would've done the same for any of her female friends. 

 

"Fuck," she exclaimed when they got to their seats, looking out towards the field. 

 

"What?" He raised a brow. "Griffin get us shit seats?"

 

"Like you'd know the difference," she shot back. "Actually, it is quite the opposite. I can't believe she managed to get seats this good."

 

"I think Dante gave them to her or something for pulling off a show at the last minute."

 

"Makes sense, god, he must suck to have as a boss." She said as she settled down into her seat. 

 

He shot her a look. "Well, not all of us can have our practically adoptive father as their employer."

 

"Sinclair is at best a mentor."

 

"Please," he scoffed, "the last time I saw the two of you together, he was making a dad joke lamer than anything Bellamy's ever said."

 

She tried to suppress a grin, but it didn't work. 

 

A vendor came by, and Murphy went to get out his wallet, but before he could, she'd jumped out and got them both beers with the drink tickets and a hot dog with relish and mustard for him.

 

He stared at the hot dog for a minute before accepting it along with the beer. "You know how I like my hot dogs?"

 

She dismissed it, trying to not think too much about it. "Enjoy it. You're getting me cheese fries next."

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

Raven didn't consider herself an intense sports fan, but she did have a special love for football. It didn't stem from anything important from her childhood. Her mom had never taken her to a game, had been too busy with her latest boyfriend or at her local bar. Rather, it brought back memories of college, especially sophomore year, when she'd returned from her summer in Japan and met Clarke and fell into befriending everyone else. As a result, she was probably a lot more into it than the game itself warranted. So much so that more than once Murphy made a comment about how he didn't realize he was in the presence of a superfan. 

 

After she stood up and yelled after a particularly dreadful fumble on their side, he pointed out that she was, "worse than Griffin than when someone's let her crack open the whiskey."

 

She shoved him lightly, which made him dribble beer all over his hand. "You happy?" He asked. 

 

"Absolutely not," she replied. "We just wasted like three dollars worth of beer."

 

He laughed, which made her smile widen more than she thought possible. "Good to know you've got the right priorities."

 

The halftime show came on, and they were maybe three beers in each. Raven was chowing down on a bucket of cheese fries, which she resolutely refused to share with Murphy, much to his chagrin, but he didn't really fight her that hard for them, he knew they were her favorite. The bucket was so enthralling that she didn't even register the cheers around her or the stares, not until Murphy muttered, "you've gotta be fucking kidding me." 

 

She looked up at him and furrowed her brow, but he wasn't looking at her, he was staring at one of the screens. Turning her head, she nearly dropped her bucket. Apparently, someone was out to get her, because there were her and Murphy, framed by a cartoon heart. The stupid kiss camera thing had found them. 

 

"We don't have to," she immediately said, hating the nervous twitch to her voice. 

 

Her hands were shaking a little, and she was forced to put her fries and beer on the ground by her feet. Some part of her registered that she was blushing furiously, but she was doing her best to block that out. 

 

"You that afraid to kiss me?" He asked, and she wondered if she was zoning out so hard she was imagining that his tone was uneven. 

 

"It's a cliché. Not to mention ridiculous, and you have a girlfriend."

 

She registered that the jeers and calls for them to kiss were only getting louder, and more intense. The camera hadn't moved from them. There was no way they getting out of this. 

 

He snorted. "I wouldn't really call her my girlfriend. We've been on tops four dates. We've talked about it. We're just testing the shit out. She wouldn't care if we kissed."

 

"But you've been sleeping together for months."

 

"Whatever, Reyes. If you really don't wanna kiss me, then just say it." There was more bite to his tone than she was expecting, but she didn't really consider that before she replied. 

 

"That's not it."

 

He looked exasperated. "I don't even know what the hell is going on right now."

 

"Oh my god, Murphy, just kiss me!" She shot back, which earned more than one shout of glee from the crowd. 

 

Before she could get out anything else or even think about how ridiculous she was sounding-like she was desperate for him to kiss her-he'd grabbed her face and his lips were on hers. Vaguely, she registered that the crowd went wild around them, and she was sure everyone in the stadium was watching them, but she couldn't even think about any of that because they were kissing. She was kissing Murphy. It was surreal and took her by surprise and she was terrified by how much she never wanted it to end. 

 

It was going on for far too long, some part of her knew that. It wasn't just a friendly peck, one that she could quickly dismiss as nothing, one that she could easily forget about. Instead, she lost herself in the moment. Maybe because she figured if she was only going to ever get one kiss from Murphy, she was going to make it count. He could've pulled away, she realized, and she wasn't even touching him. When that registered, she knew that she had to, so she slid her hands into his hair and she could've sworn he moaned, just a little. She didn't remember who deepened the kiss, who opened whose mouth first, but they were bordering on full-on making out. Some part of her chastized them, after all, there were children around. Still, she was kind of glad for it. If they'd been alone, she probably would've launched herself into his lap by now. Eventually, like she knew it had to, he ended it. 

 

Before she even had time to recover, he was standing up, pulling her with him, and then the asshole started bowing. She was actually fucking giggling, and she couldn't even hate herself for it. She did a bow herself, he raised their joined hands over their heads. When the crowd seemed appeased, the two of them settled back into their seats. 

 

She took a sip of beer and avoided eye contact. One of them needed to speak first, but she knew for sure it wasn't going to be her. 

 

"God, I can taste the cheese now," he groaned, "you've gotta give me a fry." 

 

She stuttered a little, surprised he was acting so nonchalant about it. "Fine...I think you've earned it."

 

They devolved into laughter after that, and while the rest of the game should've been uncomfortable given the kiss, it wasn't. She yelled, he pretended to know any of the plays or that he actually had interest in the game, and they used up all the drink tickets and then relented and traded off buying rounds for one another. 

 

On the walk home, she felt this desperate need to reach out and take his hand, but he wasn't hers, she reminded herself. To distract herself, she danced along the sidewalk, doing elaborate spins and dips. It made him laugh, at least, even if he was calling her a belligerent that challenged Jasper.  

 

"Whatever, you love me!" She shouted over her shoulder.

 

He walked her home, made sure she got into her apartment okay, and he texted her when he made it back to his place okay. Bellamy was watching Clarke's favorite trashy reality tv show's new episode, lounging on the couch by himself and a can of beer in front of him. 

 

"Pathetic," she told him.

 

He grinned. "You know it." 

 

It didn't even register that Murphy hadn't corrected her about him loving her until her head hit the pillow, and by then, she was far too tired and buzzed to even think about what that might've meant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have absolutely no idea if there are kiss cams at football games and i dont give a fuck because i wanted this to happen. fight me. find me on tumblr @detectivebellamyblake for updates/more information or to cry about the 100 or the various other things i obsess over!


	14. I Will Take the Chain From Off the Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have finally returned!! thank you all so much for being incredibly patient with this chapter. it wasn't that difficult to get into the swing of things, but my mental health really sent me through the ringer these last couple of months, and i wasn't in a place where i could write. still, i want to thank you all for the wonderful response i have received. your comments and kudos and lovely messages on tumblr are what motivated me to continue to write this story, and i will be forever grateful for you.
> 
> this one follows the immediate aftermath of raven and murphy's kiss in the previous chapter and also includes laser tag, so i hope you enjoy!! 
> 
> this was originally supposed to be one massive chapter, but i decided to split into two parts for length, so while this chapter is pretty bellarke heavy in terms of feelings and interaction, the next one focuses on murven. there's also some fun clurphy in the beginning too for those that have come to love them too!

Clarke had asked Murphy how the game had gone, but he'd dismissed it with a shrug and mumbled that it had been fine. It wasn't that she was disappointed, but she felt that she had given Raven a pretty golden opportunity to show Murphy that she might be into him, and if she hadn't taken it, then maybe she'd been wrong. In truth, she hadn't had a last-minute work thing. Dante had given her the tickets, and while she knew she would've had a good time with Murphy at the game, she couldn't help but meddle. Just a little bit. So, she insisted that he go with Raven, in order to continue to repair their friendship. 

 

But it seemed her attempts hadn't yielded any results. If anything, Murphy was acting more distant around Raven than he had in weeks, which left the other confused. She'd asked Clarke if he had said anything about the game to her, but when she said that he hadn't, she let the topic drop. 

 

Clearly, something was up, and while she normally wasn't the one to get involved in other people's shit, she had a tough time enough of dealing with her own, after Murphy burnt the bacon so that it was unrecognizable, she knew she had to do something.

 

She figured if Murphy wouldn't talk about the game, then she would go to Raven.

 

_imessage_

**Clarke:** how was the game? drink enough over-priced beer for me?

 

 **Raven:** it was fun-thank you so much for the tickets. sucks that you had a work thing. 

 

 **Clarke:** oh, yeah. dante's the worst. but if I want to be running my own gallery one day, he's the best to learn from. 

 

 **Raven:**  sounds like me with my bosses-minus sinclair of course 

 

 **Clarke:** unbeknownst to them, one day we'll be the ones running the world

 

 **Raven:**  oh, i think they know. they're just so deep in denial they can't see it. 

 

 **Clarke:** lol you're probably right....so, anything exciting happen at the game?

 

 **Raven:** ...

 

 **Clarke:** well???

 

 **Raven:** i'm so so sorry Clarke. it meant nothing, okay? it was out of our control, really. and we'd been drinking and i know that murphy likes you so much and i feel awful about it but i didn't know if it was my place to tell you because i figured he'd want to do it. but i am sorry, and it didn't mean anything, really. 

 

 **Clarke:** woah

 

 **Raven:** oh, fuck. murphy didn't tell you, did he?

 

 **Clarke:** nope. all he's said about the game is that it was fun

 

 **Raven:** well, shit

 

 **Clarke:** so...what did happen? i mean, i think i can guess but

 

 **Raven:** i think murphy should explain that. if you want to talk about it after you two do, that's okay. but...i bet he'll want to discuss things himself first

 

 **Clarke:** you're weirding me out, you know that, right?

 

 **Raven:** yeah, sorry about that

 

 **Clarke:** it's okay...thanks for telling me, i guess. even if it was an accident

 

 **Raven:** i really am sorry

 

 **Clarke:**  well, we can talk more about once i know what you're sorry for exactly

 

 **Raven:** of course, but...I really hope you guys don't break up...you're surprisingly good for one another. and i'm happy that you two are happy

 

 **Clarke:** thanks, but i guess i won't know til i talk to him. will i?

 

 **Raven:** guess not-still, i'm rooting for you two

 

 **Clarke:** thanks, i think-i'll call after i talk to murphy, okay?

 

 **Raven:** sure, but take all the time you need

 

Whatever she'd been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little burst of pride. Clearly, something had happened between the two of them, and it wasn't too difficult to figure out what. Of course, they were acting like idiots about it. But then again, when hadn't they? She knew she had to talk to Murphy about it before anything else happened. 

 

To ease him into it, she offered to cook dinner, and told him the only thing he needed to be in charge of was picking out the wine. She'd wanted what she was cooking to be a surprise, but he swore that it would be impossible to pick out the wine without knowing. When she'd replied that he could just pick out a standard red, he gave her such a disappointed look that she'd immediately folded. 

 

Murphy had taught her a pretty easy recipe for ratatouille and she was hoping she'd succeed without burning the house down. That was the bar she was working with. The dinner took forever to make, but they were eating late since he was working at the restaurant that night. She figured if she completely mangled it, then she could always order take out before he got home. 

 

When he came home, carrying two bottles of red, she grinned over her shoulder. 

 

"Hey," he chastised, "eyes on the pot. I happen to like this kitchen."

 

She rolled her eyes but did as he said. He jumped up on the counter and asked her about her day, and he complained about the new pastry chef and how he had talked down to the sous chef Monroe, just because she was a woman. 

 

"Why am I not surprised?" she mused as she placed the pan of vegetables into the oven. 

 

He snorted. "Seriously. Hell, everyone knows that the culinary world is sexist as shit, but I don't need that crap in my kitchen."

 

She grinned. "You tell him off?"

 

He shook his head. "I was about to, but Monroe had it handled. I think the dude almost peed himself. It was awesome."

 

"Glad you had a good day then."

 

She was confident in her cooking skills right up to the moment that Murphy that speared some of it and put it in his mouth. He'd tried to hide the face he made, but she saw it. 

 

"Fuck," she sighed, "what did I screw up?"

 

He coughed and took a long sip of wine. "How much salt did you put in?"

 

She frowned, and then shrugged. "A couple of tablespoons, like you said."

 

At that, he burst out laughing. "A couple? Jesus, no wonder it tastes like one of Harper's salt rocks. I said  _teaspoons._ Very different."

 

"Well, shit," she replied. After a moment, she asked, "pizza?"

 

He agreed. "Pizza. Sausage with pepper and onion?"

 

"You know it!" She told him as she grabbed the disgraced meal and dumped it into their compost bin. 

 

They composted now. Mostly because Murphy did so. When she'd asked him when he'd gotten so into saving the planet, he'd shrugged and replied, "being ecologically ethical is sexy, Clarke."

 

Once the pizza arrived, they dug in, grateful for food that wouldn't double their cholesterol. She was on her second slice when she brought up her conversation with Raven. She was proud of herself that she'd held out that long. 

 

"So," she said, swallowing a mouthful of pizza, "Raven apologized for something that happened at the game. Which is weird, because I didn't realize you two did anything to warrant an apology."

 

Murphy looked pained at her comment. Which she would've felt bad about if he'd told her what had happened sooner. She hadn't meant to sound bitchy, but she'd been thinking about what probably happened, and couldn't help but be a little pissed that he hadn't told her. It wasn't that she was overtly hurt (though her pride was a little stung) but rather that she and Murphy had gotten really close over the past couple of months. She thought they were above keeping secrets from one another. 

 

"Okay," he said, "so here's what happened: me and Reyes were at the game. By your own making too. I mean, you could've insisted on me giving that ticket to anyone. Not judging, just stating a fact," he told her when she opened her mouth to protest. "The two of us got caught on the kiss cam. We kissed. It wasn't a peck, either. I know that that is shitty, and even though we're not exclusive or serious or whatever, it was still an asshole thing to do. I get it if you're pissed."

 

She took a sip of her wine to gather her thoughts. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel. Certainly, it wasn't relieved. Or happy. She _was_ meant to be pissed, wasn't she? Her almost-boyfriend and friend had made out in front of a stadium full of people. Surely, that was cause to be upset. But she wasn't...She was thrilled that Raven had actually had the guts to admit to herself what Clarke suspected she felt. And that Murphy had been assured enough to make a move. 

 

"I kind of figured that," she replied, "given the onslaught of 'I'm sorry's Raven dumped on me. Look, I'm not upset that you guys kissed. I'm mad because...Well, we're close you know? Maybe we're not in love or anything. But we're certainly friends. Really good friends. And friends don't lie to one another when the person they've been pining over for forever finally gives them an indication that they might return said pining."

 

He looked relieved at that, though still guilty. He wasn't going to get out of this completely unscathed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I thought...I don't know, that you'd be pissed and hurt and I felt like such a dick. I was trying to think of the best way to tell you and then Raven acted like it was nothing so I convinced myself it was best if we just pretended it never happened."

 

"It's okay. I just want you to know that you can tell me that stuff. At this point, I think the two of us can tell each other anything, you know?"

 

He nodded. "I know. I guess I just...Didn't want it mean what I knew it did."

 

She snorted. "So, you still love her, huh?"

 

Taking a moment to finish off his glass of wine, he took a moment to say, "I wish I could tell you that the kiss meant nothing. I wish I could tell you that I'm completely over her and totally into you, exclusively. But you already knew I wasn't, didn't you?" He asked. She nodded. After all, it was the reason she'd set them up on some kind of weird experiment/pseudo-date. 

 

"I am so fucking sorry that I may have hurt you, that I may have made you think...Fuck, I don't know, that I was over her? Maybe I wanted to be so bad that I convinced myself that I was. But the kiss, well, it kind of ruined any idea of that. I'm so sorry, Clarke. God, I am such a complete asshole, aren't I?" 

 

"If we didn't get into this knowing that we were both in love with other people, then yeah, you definitely would be. But...I suspected as much. Besides," she let out a sigh, "I think I might be in the same boat."

 

He raised his eyebrows at that, and she bit her lip. "I know. Even after the whole party at my mother's fiasco...I don't know. I don't want to still want him. But I do. I think it was easier when we weren't close anymore, but the more I let him in again, the more I realize I'm not quite over him."

 

"Good to know I'm not the only one who's got major issues."

 

She laughed. "Yeah, we're definitely still in this together." Eventually, she knew she couldn't avoid it any longer, it was hanging between them, and she wasn't sure he would say it since he'd just admitted to so much. "This, the sex and dating stuff, it doesn't have to be over, does it?" She asked. Maybe it wasn't the smart thing to ask, or even what she was supposed to. They had just admitted they loved other people. But she really thought she might've been able to love Murphy one day, too. And that wasn't nothing to her. It meant a whole lot, actually. 

 

He poured her and himself more wine. Taking a long sip, he got out, "I don't know. I mean, is it good for us to still be doing this even when we know we're both into other people? I just...I don't want to fuck up our friendship, as weird as that sounds."

 

"I get it," she replied, "but I am having fun, and I don't know...It seems like kind of a waste, you know? To throw away something that could be good for both of us. Maybe we'll surprise ourselves and actually get over them one day. I'm not saying it's going to happen overnight, but what if we're looking for an excuse for it to not work between us because we're scared of actually moving on?"

 

Murphy didn't look too convinced by the last idea, but he seemed to be considering what she was saying. 

 

"If we're gonna keep doing this though, we have to be completely honest with each other."

 

"Agreed," she responded. 

 

"I mean, even if we think it's gonna hurt the other person, it'll be better to be honest than lie about it. Eventually, all that shit comes out and the last thing I'd want is to fuck up our friendship, you know?" He seemed a bit nervous about the whole thing, which she couldn't help but think was kind of adorable. "Plus, if things went that bad between us, I'd have to move out. And lose the most stunning thing I've ever had in my life."

 

She never imagined Murphy to be the kind of person to say such things and didn't know how she felt about it, especially since they hadn't even talked about being exclusive yet. Then she realized who, or rather what, he was really talking about. 

 

"You little shit," she said.

 

"What?" He raised his arms up in defense. "That kitchen is a beauty and basically unattainable in a city at this price and you know it."

 

"You're still a little shit." But there was no venom in her tone. 

 

"Guilty." He didn't seem too ashamed of it though, but she knew that already. 

 

"And I don't think we should be exclusive," she said.

 

He seemed a little taken aback, but she did have reasoning behind her decision. 

 

"If something happens between you and Raven again, I don't want it to be a big thing between us. At least, not in that part of our relationship. As a friend and mutual hopeless loser, I want to be excited for you. And I don't want you keeping things from me about her. It complicates things way too much. We both knew where the other stood when we got into this. Just because there was a certain development doesn't mean that that stops. Okay?"

 

She spat it all out at once, mostly because she didn't want that look on his face to last too long, and because she couldn't believe the situation she had found herself in: still in way too deep with Bellamy but not wanting to end things with Murphy just yet. And it seemed, impossibly so, that he felt the same. 

 

"Fair enough," he agreed. "Though you sure you just don't have a secret plan to lay one on Blake."

 

"Please."

 

"What?" He asked. "It'd be hilarious to witness. He'd probably pass out."

 

She couldn't help it, she laughed a little at that. "So if the day ever comes where I trust him enough to do that, I should make sure you're in eyesight away?"

 

"It doesn't have to be that close, I've got an amazing pair of binoculars that I haven't used in too long."

 

"You're vile," she said, "you know that?"

 

"And yet, you're the one dating me," he replied, smug. 

 

"You know what?" She raised her brows and smirked. "I've changed my mind."

 

"As if you could ever get enough of me."

 

She snorted at that but started to chew on her lip. Murphy picked up on it right away. 

 

"What is it? Remember, we promised each other if we're gonna do this, we gotta be straight with each other." He said, concern floating in his tone but not so much that it was overwhelming. 

 

"So, while we're being honest I have something I should tell you."

 

He narrowed his eyes at that. "You haven't been faking orgasms, have you? Because I swear, my ego won't survive it. Not to mention, that helps no one in the situation and-"

 

She held up a hand, "no, my orgasms have been all real, thank you very much. But, well," she knew she just had to tell him, "I kind of didn't actually have a last-minute work thing. I could've gone to the game."

 

"Then why didn't you?"

 

Swallowing, she replied, "I may have noticed some indications from Raven that her feelings for you were less than platonic, and I couldn't help it. I just wanted to give her the opportunity to maybe...Express those feelings."

 

If she expected him to be upset or angry, she was dead wrong. He smirked and shook his head. "Figures you'd take it upon yourself to play matchmaker. Well, thanks for that. Though I don't know what that says about you-setting up the guy you're sleeping with and kind of dating with one of your closest friends."

 

"Probably nothing good," she mused, "as you said before, I've got issues."

 

"Hey, I'm the one that needed a kiss cam to finally make a move," he shot back, "I've got way more issues than you." After a moment he went on, "wait...Did you set up that too?"

 

She put her hands up. "Nope, that was all fate. That kind of meddling could only be engineered by Octavia."

 

"True. You don't have the reach."

 

"Asshole," she said.

 

She was glad he wasn't pissed about her delving into his and Raven's relationship. That probably had more to do with the fact that the two of them had kissed than anything else, but she'd take it. "So, how was the kiss?"

 

"You really want to know _that_?" He asked, clearly flabbergasted.

 

It made her smile and she nodded. "We're friends first. Plus, I may be curious to see how I measure up."

 

"Well," he replied, "it was awkward at first because we were in a stadium full of people."

 

"Sounds lovely."

 

"Shut up. Anyways, it was, you know, it was pretty good, okay? I don't know how I'd compare the two of you though, so don't even ask me to. It's weird and competitive and exactly the kind of thing you'd gloat about when you were drunk."

 

"So I _am_ the better kisser," she said.

 

"I never said that," he told her, "look, the kiss with me and Reyes? It was good. But not good enough for me to want to end things with you completely. Besides, it doesn't really mean anything. It happened because of something out of our control, not because she decided to make a move. And she hasn't said a word to me about it since. I know you were trying to engineer some kind of confession out of her, but I don't think it's going to happen. I'm happy where I'm at right now, so maybe lay off the meddling next time, alright?"

 

While she couldn't help but be a little disappointed it appeared nothing else was going to happen between Murphy and Raven, she couldn't stop the relief that flowed through her. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she needed him. Maybe it wouldn't always be in the way she did at the moment, but the fact that he was happy being with her while she was with him, it meant a lot. 

 

She decided to play off the seriousness of his admission though, for both of their sakes. "I think you just want me for my kitchen." 

   

"I won't lie, it's definitely a perk. But I'm serious, you've got my dumbass for the long haul, even if we're not banging, we're still friends. Though I certainly don't want to stop that part of our dynamic, at least not right now." He seemed to get a little nervous because, after a moment, he asked, "right?"

 

"Right," she agreed. "You've grown on me. Like a very colorful fungus."

 

He snorted. "Well, at least I'm colorful." 

 

"That you are."

 

He checked his phone again, "hey, wanna see if that ice cream place on 7th is still open? I could go for some chocolate chip cookie dough to get through this talk about way too many feelings I'm not even sure I have."

 

She laughed and nodded. "I do have a craving for mint chocolate chip at the moment."

 

He crinkled his nose. "Worst flavor ever. When we make out later, I'm gonna have to deal with that minty grossness."

  

She shook her head and groaned, "I can't believe this is my life. Fuck me." 

 

"Don't worry, I'll do that too."

 

Shoving him playfully, they walked out the door together. 

* * *

When Bellamy was with Clarke, it was too easy to forget everything that had happened since his failed engagement. They had moved past the awkward stage much faster than he thought possible. While she still made a point of checking in from time to time whenever they were around Murphy, it seemed she really was okay with having him be a part of her life once more. 

 

Though they hadn't done it as often as they had before he'd moved out, they were hanging out alone together again. Granted, this mostly involved her getting a sick kind of glee out of making them watch her shitty reality television shows. He didn't have the courage to admit that he'd been keeping up with them while they hadn't been getting together. Still, he couldn't help but be tentative every time he met up with everyone. That was when he felt the most strain, and when she seemed to be the most on edge. Echo had been gone nearly three months now, and while he felt guilty about how he'd treated her, she had assured him over a couple of text exchanges that she was doing great, and was even dating some new girl named Ash. He was happy for her, and as much as it had been difficult to accept, he was happy for Clarke, too.

 

In the times they'd hung out as a group, he'd noticed that Murphy truly did make her laugh and that she seemed to make him less of a dick, most of the time. As much as it was odd for him to admit it, they were good for each other. 

 

But his current thoughts were mostly about what to do for Jasper's birthday. It wasn't like any of the other birthdays in the group, where he could pick out a nice gift and they all met up for drinks. No, his was always a goddamn event. This year was no different. 

 

_delinquents group chat_

**Jasper:** it's the hap-happiest season of all!!!!!!

 

 **Emori:** this shit again, seriously??

 

 **Miller:** oh god help me

 

 **Clarke:**  i see we're stealing andy williams now

 

 **Jasper:** shut up and let me finish my song!!!!

 

 **Monty:** better let him-you know what happened last time

 

 **Jackson:** i think it's best not to mention illegal activities anywhere that is documented and could potentially be read by the government

 

 **Harper:** i think i still have glitter in my hair from last year

 

 **Lincoln:** jasper, just get on with it so octavia can quit it with the breathing exercises

 

 **Octavia:** i am being at peace! sorry none of you could even attempt to meditate

 

 **Murphy:** that's because meditation is bull

 

 **Bellamy:** don't call my sister's breathing exercises bull

 

 **Octavia:** thank you, bell

 

 **Bellamy:** that's my job

 

 **Octavia:** ass

 

 **Jasper:** YOU GUYS ARE MAKING THIS CONVO ABOUT YOU AND IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU NOT THIS MONTH IT'S ABOUT ME

 

 **Raven:** fucking hell, jasper just finish the song already so we can get to the actual plans

 

 **Jasper:** fine

 

 **Jasper:** it's the hap-happiest season of all! with those neon lights a-shining and battling a-bounding! there will be tequila a-drinking and uniforms for all! it's the most wonderful time of the yearrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!

 

 **Clarke:** what could you possibly be making us do this year

 

 **Jasper:** ooooh everyone guess!!

 

 **Bellamy:** medieval times, though i will be immensely disappointed if medieval times has sunk to compromising their integrity by including neon lighting 

 

 **Murphy:** yeah, because they had so much integrity to loose 

 

 **Octavia:** cage fighting

 

 **Monty:** no, it's gotta be something jasper's good at 

 

 **Harper:** roller skating???

 

 **Jackson:** roller skating would be fun!

 

 **Miller:** i'm actually not bad at that-and it certainly wouldn't be the worst thing you could've come up with

 

 **Raven:** i'm rooting for bowling

 

 **Murphy:** you would

 

 **Raven:** what's that supposed to mean?

 

 **Murphy:** nothing...just that you're 67-year-old woman named Gladys-complete with the blue hair and lipstick on her teeth

 

 **Raven:** well, at least i'm hot 

 

 **Murphy:** please

 

 **Raven:** like you wouldn't still do me

 

 **Murphy:** i do love pudding

 

 **Monty:** uM is anyone else uncomfortable right now?

 

 **Emori:** immensely 

 

 **Jasper:** YES YOU ALL SHOULD BE BECAUSE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE TALKING ABOUT ME AND ALL OF YOU WERE WRONG SO BOOM I WIN

 

 **Clarke:** well, obviously you win-whatever it is, we're all dragged into it

 

 **Jasper:** i'm gonna ignore that little comment and get ready to announce the amazingness

 

 **Miller:** please do, the suspension is killing me

 

 **Jasper:** alright, are you guys ready?

 

 **Bellamy:** not even close

 

 **Jasper:** TWO WORDS: LASER. TAG. 

 

 **Raven:** oh jesus

 

 **Miller:** dude, i'm over thirty-do they even let people our age play?

 

 **Jasper:** they do when you rent out one of the entire arenas!!

 

 **Monty:** how much did that cost you? 

 

 **Jasper:** pfffft how much did it cost me???? what is money when all my friends are together celebrating me?! anyways, let's forget about that!! let's focus on how much fun it's gonna be!!

 

 **Harper:** i can practically hear his credit cards crying 

 

 **Murphy:** screw it, if you're paying, then why the fuck not?

 

 **Clarke:** you have such dedication to your friends

 

 **Murphy:** i live to serve

 

 **Jasper:** okay, so i'll text you all the address and if every single one of you don't come and be enthusiastic about this then i will never forgive you!!

 

When he arrived at the address Jasper had texted, all of them were already there. Emori had tried to get out of it by claiming there were some business meetings for the gym that she couldn't get out of, but Raven ratted on her after Jasper stole the keys to her car and held them hostage, and then she really had to go, and even bring her new girlfriend she'd barely told the group anything about. 

 

Miller came up to him, beer already in hand (at least it was good to know that they could drink at this thing). He muttered so that Jasper, who was running around getting everyone outfitted in their vests and assigning teams, wouldn't hear him. "At least he chose laser tag. There's paintball too, but they don't let you drink if you do that one. Something about it being a liability apparently."

 

He snorted. "I think Jasper's birthday is a whole separate liability in itself."

 

"Probably. At least Jackson and I are on the same team. Dude doesn't look it, but he's majorly competitive. When I kicked his ass at Monopoly at game night I didn't get laid for a week. Oh, and by the way," he added, "we're totally gonna destroy you guys."

 

"Doubt it," he replied. 

 

"Please," the other went on, "we've got Raven, Clarke, and my secretly murderously competitive boyfriend. You guys don't stand a chance."

 

He had to admit, the odds didn't look good. 

 

Jasper was practically bouncing on his heels while some seventeen-year-old kid with braces explained the ethics of laser tag to the group. He also dealt out some safety regulations, but he could tell he was the only one amongst them at listened to _those_. Knowing his friends, they were going to take this way too seriously, and probably end up getting banned for life. 

 

Once the logistics were over, the separate teams gathered up and were assigned colors. 

 

"No way in hell are we yellow," Raven protested. "I insist on being red. We have to switch."

 

"I don't see why we have to adhere to your security blanket of a favorite color," Murphy crossed his arms over his chest, but he was grinning a little. 

 

"How long do you think this'll go on for?" 

 

He turned to his right, Clarke was smirking as the exchange between Raven and Murphy continued. 

 

"Oh, I'd say only a couple of hours or so," he told her. 

 

"Really? I could see them going all day at this point. Murphy's been on a real arguing kick recently."

 

Even though he was used to their antics, he couldn't help but feel like Murphy and Raven's arguing was bordering more and more on flirting lately. It made him uncomfortable. One, because he didn't want Murphy screwing with Clarke when they had just started dating and there was no way in hell they needed another Finn situation. Two, because he knew even if he thought something was up, he was in no position to intervene. And three, because some secret horrible part of him got some crazy sense of hope from it. He couldn't let himself think like that. It wasn't fair to anyone involved, and would probably only lead to him creating more drama, which, he had had enough of to last a lifetime, thank you very much. 

 

"Eh, I don't know if his heart's in it though," he responded.

 

At that Clarke snorted. When he gave her a confused look, she waved a hand of dismissal. 

 

"It doesn't matter what color we are, because no matter, we're gonna wipe the floor with you," she said, casually, as if his defeat would be nothing. 

 

"Oh, is that so?" He asked. 

 

She nodded and grinned. "Yep."

 

"And how are we so sure?"

 

"Because we're made of awesome and you guys are made of pure nerd," she fired back.

 

He choked on a laugh, trying to swallow it, but she noticed anyway and became even more insufferable. "Well you may have the brawns, but we've got the brains."

 

She responded, "oh yeah, sure you do."

 

He followed to where she was looking at Jasper and Monty, who were both currently being reprimanded by the clearly stoned second teenager in charge of their arena. Apparently they'd been behaving in such a way that could pose a danger to themselves and others during the game. 

 

"Well," he tried to come up with some kind of recovery, "I didn't say we were perfect. We're like...The Bad News Bears. Everyone loves an underdog."

 

"Are all your references to movies from the 70s, Old Man?" She asked.

 

He rolled his eyes. "I could've been talking about the remake."

 

"You do realize using terms like 'the remake' make you sound even older, right?"

 

He didn't have the opportunity to explain how wrong she was and would it hurt her to take in a little culture that wasn't Bachelor in Paradise when Jackson shouted over at them, "Clarke! Stop fraternizing with the enemy and get over here!" 

 

She did an elaborate bow towards Bellamy and he told her, "may the best team win."

 

Laughing, she called over her shoulder, "don't worry, we will."

 

It was eventually decided that they would switch colors, so Raven, Clarke, Jackson, Miller, Maya, Lincoln, and Anya (Emori's surprise new girlfriend who gave Jasper an unwrapped bottle of fancy tequila as a present) would be the red team. Himself, Murphy, Harper, Emori, Jasper, Monty, and Octavia would be on the yellow one. Just looking at his team, he knew they were gonna need a miracle to win this thing. Sure, Jasper and Octavia would probably manage to get about half of the other team out, but the rest of them either had never played before or hadn't played since they were kids. When it was probably a more age-appropriate activity. 

  

"You couldn't have stacked the teams in our favor?" Octavia asked as she had her vest strapped on. 

 

"That wouldn't be fair," Jasper shot back.

 

"Yeah, because you're always all about fairness," Monty said. 

 

"I am. In fact, I deserve some kind of prize for my generosity today." Bellamy did his best to not roll his eyes at that. "Besides," he went on, "what they have in brute force and terrifying anger, we make up for in speed and stamina." 

 

"So there is a strategy?" Harper asked. "I thought we were just gonna say 'fuck it' and hope for the best."

 

Jasper actually scoffed at that. "Of course I have a strategy! Who do you think I am? Now, huddle up."

 

"You can't be serious," Murphy scoffed. 

 

"The other team is already huddling up and probably coming up with ways to destroy us."

 

Bellamy glanced over, and it was true. The rest of his friends were in a tight circle, and while he could hear whispers, he couldn't make out anything concrete. Knowing Clarke, she probably told them to do it and just pretend like they were planning something sinister just to psyche them out. Not that he was going to tell Jasper that. 

 

Eventually, Jasper managed to wrangle them all into something that vaguely resembled a huddle. But Harper, a resident lightweight, was already buzzed and kept giggling. 

 

"Harper, oh my god. Now is not the time. We must serious. We must be ruthless. Okay?"

 

Monty nodded solemnly, really, the only one that was taking Jasper seriously. 

 

"I know that our team is perhaps the underdog, but I chose you all to be on my team for a reason," he cleared his throat and began to speak in what was meant to be a dramatic tone, "we will rise, like the great phoenix from the ashes. We will be underestimated, and that is how we will win." The speech sounded suspiciously like it was going in a direction Bellamy had heard before, but he couldn't yet place it. "Good evening my ladies and gentlemen. In less than five minutes, we will enter the arena along with the Red Team. And you will be launching the most important laser tag battle in this history of mankind. Mankind-that word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore," at that he looked from Murphy to Bellamy, and then from Murphy to Emori. "We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps its fate that today is Jasper's Birthday,"

 

At that, Octavia jumped in, "but it isn't fate, you invited us all here and made us come,"

 

Jasper shushed her, which made her looked pissed, but he went on, "and you will once again be fighting for our freedom, not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution -- but from annihilation. We're fighting for our right to live, to exist. And should we win the day, Jasper's birthday will no longer be known as a simple tradition, but as the day when the world declared in one voice,"

 

Bellamy knew where the speech was from by now, and he was holding back a laugh that made him sound like he was choking on something. Harper was suppressing another round of giggles. Emori's eyes were narrowed at the table of beer over Monty's head. But it was Murphy who snickered, "dude, this is the fucking speech from _Independence Day_ , isn't it?"

 

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me: we will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today, we celebrate JASPER'S BIRTHDAY!"

 

Murphy burst out laughing and Bellamy couldn't stop from doing it too. Emori muttered that she needed another drink, but it was too late. It was time for the game to begin. 

 

The seventeen-year-old looked at them all as if they were the perfect example of what he didn't want to be when he grew up, which, Bellamy thought, was fair enough. Everyone grabbed a laser tag gun and darted into the arena to find a good hiding place before the game started. Even though most of them had put up a fight about playing, it seemed that faded away when they were faced with the actual reality of playing the game. 

 

He found a pretty good place to hide on one of the upper levels and could see Anya from where he was standing. She had taken her beer into the arena with her, which he hadn't known was allowed. Knowing what little he did about her, that wouldn't have stopped her. Still, she was pretty exposed, and when the buzzer rang to start the game, he got her out right away. 

 

"See you dorks on the other side," she said, saluting them and then walked towards the exit. 

 

He figured she was actually happier sitting by the bar than actually playing, but he'd also realized that he really wanted to win.

 

The next thirty minutes or happened to be a bit of a blur. Murphy and Raven got one another out almost immediately. Miller almost got him out no less than three times and he managed to get both Lincoln and Jackson, to no one's greater surprise than his own. The latter glared daggers and shouted out into the arena, "red team you better avenge me or else!" Bellamy just gave him a gloating grin. 

 

After that, he nearly was taken out by Maya, who was actually surprisingly quick and good at this game. Apparently, she'd been a part of an actual team in college, which he didn't even know had existed until he'd found out from Jasper after the game had already started. 

 

When he'd asked why in the hell hadn't he placed her on their team, Jasper had looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "Because then how would I prove to her that she should keep me around as a boyfriend because of my impressive skills in an area she also enjoys?" He smirked. "Though of course, my young grasshopper, you do struggle to keep relationships, don't you?"

 

All it took was one glare for Jasper to go scampering off through the arena, probably afraid Bellamy would get him out just to spite him. Not that he could really argue with him though. He did have a point. 

 

He had just found the absolute perfect hiding place where he could wait for the unsuspecting red team member. Until he and Clarke literally bumped into one another. Both of their backs turned, he glanced over his shoulder and knew it was her without even really seeing her. She muffled what he sensed was a grunt of surprise. They both turned around at almost the same time, their guns pointed at one another's chests. 

 

"What are you doing here?" She whisper-shouted

 

"Me? I was here first," he argued. 

 

"Please," she shook her head, "I definitely beat you here. This is my stakeout spot."

 

"No way, it's definitely mine."

 

"How is that? I don't see your name on it," she shot back.

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise that the game brought out the inner twelve-year-old in all of them. 

 

"Really? That's your big comeback?" He snorted. "I was clearly here before you."

 

"How would you know that?" She asked. "Your back was turned. I could've been here way before you."

 

"Then why didn't you get me out when you had the chance?" He was a little smug with this response, perhaps more than was necessary.

 

"Because!"

 

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Because...? I'm not hearing a second part to that explanation."

 

"Fine. But I maintain that we got here at the exact same time."

 

"I suppose it's improbable, but not impossible," he replied. 

 

"So, you wanna do rock-paper-scissors for it or what?" 

 

Surprised that she was giving in so quickly, he narrowed his eyes. "What's the catch?"

 

"No catch, promise," she replied. "I'll even put my gun down first," and to her credit, she lowered the plastic weapon and tucked it into the back of her jeans. 

 

"Alright, fine, but there's gotta be some terms."

 

"Of course," she said solemnly. 

 

"We only play one round. There's no time for two out of three."

 

"Obviously," she cut in, before letting him continue. 

 

"And whoever loses, they get thirty seconds to make a clean break for it."

 

She seemed to contemplate this second term but ultimately agreed to it. "Alright, deal."

 

"Okay, ready?" He asked, lowering his own laser tag gun, which he had become more attached to than he cared to admit. 

 

"Ready," she said, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. 

 

He made a fist with his left hand and she made one with her right. They counted out together, "rock, paper, scissors, shoot."

 

Except he had no idea what the outcome was, because the second they'd each said shoot, Clarke had reached up and tugged him down by the collar of his t-shirt and landed her mouth on his. The first second he didn't even realize what was happening, and by the time the second one came around, he still was struggling to accept that it actually was. The third was a bit better because he could pay attention to actual details of things. The softness of her lips, the way her hand felt curled in his shirt, dangerously close to his chest where his heart was hammering. He'd decided on rock when they'd first agreed to use the game to decide on access to the spot, and his fist hung lamely between them.

 

Before he'd even had enough time to respond, she had pulled away. Just slightly. Just so that they weren't huddled so close together he could smell her hair, but still close enough that she could keep holding him in place. Even if she hadn't been touching him, there was no way in hell he would've moved. He looked at her, stunned and breathless and at a complete loss for words. She looked just as surprised as he felt. Then, so quick there was nothing he could've done about it in his current state, she lifted her gun from behind her jeans and he felt his vest buzz and light up. 

 

She smirked, her gun hanging loosely from her hand, clearly pleased with herself. "Gotcha," she whispered, and then released him and spun away, laughing as she disappeared down the corridor. 

 

For moments after she'd disappeared, he stood there utterly confused by what had just happened. He'd never told her about his feelings exactly, but it seemed she had known about them after the events of her mother's birthday. But he had no idea what he was supposed to make of whatever the hell had just happened. Was it meant to change everything or did she simply want to win and knew the best way to go about it? But this was Clarke, and surely, she could've come up with a hundred different ways to trick him so she could get him out, so why would she choose that one? The possibility was too much for him to consider. 

 

It was only when his vest lit up again and he turned to see Miller looking smug that he was finally able to gain some kind of ability to move or speak or even think clearly. 

 

"Clarke already got me out," he explained.

 

The other eyed him. "I'm guessing we'll be drinking about whatever her strategy was later tonight huh?" 

 

He vaguely remembered nodding and then exiting the arena, Miller's laugh ringing in his ears. It was probably pathetic, how far gone he was for Clarke. He probably should've been working on moving on at this point, especially since she was happy with another guy every night. But he couldn't even pretend he wanted that now. There was no avoiding the obvious: he was completely at her mercy, and shamelessly hoping that he would have the chance to kiss her again, even if it was just one more time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [tumblr](https://detectivebellamyblake.tumblr.com/) for more information/updates.
> 
> also, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9t1IK_9apWs) is a video of the speech Jasper completely ripped off, but of course, he put his own spin on things. i also really recommend the movie. it is definitely dated, but it's a really fun watch if you're into aliens and will smith.


	15. Hold Up, They Don't Love You Like I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update for you lovelies!! this is one picks up with the game of laser tag, but is much more geared towards murven. we get to see how raven feels about the kiss and it continues to keep things on the lighter side, but of course, there's still a smattering of angst and the feels. 
> 
> once again, I want to thank everyone who stuck with me during my break from writing or new readers that have stumbled upon this story. it means everything to me that there are such wonderful people out there that have been enjoying my story. I'm so thankful to anyone that's given any kind of feedback and has gotten some enjoyment from my writing. you guys are amazing and the reason I keep writing, and I will never be able to thank you enough.

Raven was pissed that she got out so easily, without even really being able to show off her skills. She'd figured Murphy would go down easily, she never imagined that he'd get her out at the very same time she did him. She didn't even think that that kind of thing could actually happen, but leave it to Murphy to prove her wrong. One minute, she'd been chasing him down (he wasn't that fast, but he did tricky maneuvers that had her panting and cursing her leg), the next, he was pointing his own laser tag gun at her. She'd fired, but so did he, and then they were both out. 

 

She stalked out of the arena and grabbed a beer off of the table. Emori and Anya were already there, the former shaking out her bad hand. Raven didn't start off calling it that, but Emori argued that if she referred to her leg as bad, then she was allowed to do the same with her congenitally defected hand. 

 

"I really had to get a cramp right when I was about to get out Jasper," she muttered. 

 

Anya took the hand in her own and rubbed circles into it. "I'm sure you were," she told her girlfriend, but Raven picked up the slightly mocking tone of her voice. 

 

Emori cracked a smile. "Jerk." She nodded to Raven, "who got you out?"

 

"Oh," she said, "it was-"

 

"Licking your wounded pride already, are we, Reyes?" Murphy called from where he'd just exited the arena.

 

She could faintly hear the shouts of her friends and techno music that was blaring from inside. 

 

"Please," she responded, "if anything, that's what you're here to do. We got each other out at the same time. And you couldn't even outrun me even with my leg annoying the hell out of me. Not much to brag about."

 

"Is it still bothering you?" He asked, tilting his head towards her leg.

 

She brushed off his concern. It was still bothering her, but she didn't want to deal with his or anyone else's pity. "It's nothing."

 

He didn't look convinced, but also didn't push her, for which she was thankful. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the concern, but there was only so much help people could provide or comforting words they could say to help the situation. Sometimes she preferred it when people let it be. 

 

"Alright, so then I am completely relieved of any kind of guilt I have for getting your ass out," he said, grinning. The bastard. 

 

"I got you out at the very same time!" She protested. "So really, it hardly counts. Don't go gloating to Clarke about it."

 

"Please," he replied, "like I need to brag about anything to her. She already knows how awesome I am, and unlike you, isn't a pain in the ass about admitting it."

 

Was it her imagination, or did he have a bit of a tone? She decided to dismiss it as him just being pissy about getting out so quickly.

 

"Good to know you're keeping that ego in check."

 

He raised a brow. "Why? You in the mood to shrink my head down to size?" Just as quick as he'd been sharp with her, he was back to teasing. She felt like she was playing catch-up in their own dynamic. It was as if there was something going on that she didn't quite understand. 

 

Emori and Anya exchanged a look at made her all too suspicious, and then made themselves scarce, commenting that they wanted to check out the arcade. Raven saw it for what it was, but she let it go. Secretly, she was glad for the time with Murphy. They hadn't really been alone since the kiss had happened, and while she was dreading the conversation, she knew it had to happen. 

 

After her slip up with Clarke, she'd texted her and they'd even met up for lunch. Although she'd been assured the kiss hadn't really had a negative impact on any of their friendships or Murphy and Clarke, she wasn't fully convinced. If she was being completely honest, she was also a little disappointed. She'd thought the kiss had been amazing, easily in her top five best kisses she'd received in her life, but it shouldn't have been a surprise to discover that she was upset Murphy didn't feel the same.

 

Not that she blamed him, after the way she'd treated him, and her total inability to actually articulate how she felt. 

 

"The arcade was definitely code for finding somewhere to do it," Murphy told her as he grabbed a beer and took a sip.

 

She nearly spat out the sip she'd taken. "No way," but after a moment she considered it, "you really think?"

 

He snorted. "At the very least, they're definitely gonna make out."

 

"How would you know?"

 

"Because," he smirked, "I know for a fact Emori's got a thing for public places. And I'm betting Anya's ready to murder at least half of our friends."

 

She returned the smile, "oh, don't say that! I think only about two—thirds at the moment, though give her time, I'm sure she'll get to a full ninety-nine percent by the time the party's over."

 

He laughed at that, which reduced the tension when she asked, "so, you cool about Emori and Anya?"

 

"You serious?" He asked, and she shrugged.

 

"Emori and I...We were great while we lasted, but I think we both always knew we were too similar. Maybe in a different world, it'd make sense, but since we're living in this one, I'd say we're happier as just friends." For a moment, she wondered if it wasn't just Emori he was talking about, which made the conversation she wanted to have all the more daunting. 

 

"That's good," she replied. He raised his brows at that little comment, and she backpedaled, "for you and Clarke, I mean. It's good that you've found someone that...Fits better, I guess."

 

"Yeah," he nodded, "it's working out so far. But we agreed neither one of us wants it to be serious yet."

 

At that admission, her heart stuttered. God, she was way too invested, she chastised herself. 

 

"Oh," she said, trying to collect her thoughts into something that wouldn't sound too desperate and somewhat coherent, "that's not because, I mean, I know me and Clarke talked, but it's not my fault or the—" But he cut her off.

 

"Reyes, no. It's not because of the kiss. Great as it was," he thought it was _great_ , "it was just a kiss, one that wasn't planned and kind of against our will," at that, any small hope she felt by the previous comment sputtered out, "and we're not exclusive, so it's not like we did anything wrong. She and I talked things over, and it's fine, really." 

 

She nodded, a little too vigorously, but luckily, he didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn't take note of it, which would've been unlike him, but perhaps understandable given the circumstances.

 

She had been kidding herself, thinking that kiss would change anything, she realized. Of course, he didn't want her anymore. Not when Clarke made him so happy. Not when she hadn't embarrassed him in public or called off their friendship because she'd fucked up her relationship by catching feelings. Raven knew she was lucky to have his friendship, which she never thought she'd admit, but any chance of anything more was asking for too much. She just wished her heart would catch up to where her head was at. 

 

"That's awesome."

 

"Awesome?" He asked.

 

"I mean, yeah," she responded, "the last thing I'd want is to fuck things up with you guys because of some stupid kiss cam."

 

"Yeah," he agreed, but she was too busy refining her own reaction into one of cavalier nonchalance to notice his own, "well, I guess we're all good then. Settles it."

 

"Yep."

 

He drained more of his beer and a little bit of an awkward silence settled around them. She was hoping that more of their friends would filter out so they'd have an excuse to talk to other people. Obviously, no one did, but Murphy didn't move from the spot or make up any kind of excuse to leave her, so neither did she. 

 

"Hey, you wanna actually check out the arcade? I have a feeling we'll be waiting a while if our friends' previous competitiveness is anything to go by."

 

It was the least she could do, she figured, to try and at least ease back into their easy friendship that became so much more complicated than she ever thought possible. 

 

If he noticed the obviousness of the gesture, he didn't point it out, for which she was grateful. It had already been embarrassing enough to find out that the kiss hadn't meant nearly as much to him as it did her. But he couldn't know that, not if they were going to go back to normal, and she did want that, because, much like Bellamy, she'd rather have him as a friend then not at all. 

 

"You know what? Let's do it." And he sauntered off in the direction of the arcade, calling over his shoulder, "bet I can totally beat your ass at any game we come across."

 

"Oh, you're on," she said, catching up.

 

They started with Pac-Man, which Murphy won and then gloated about so much that Raven nearly shoved him into a gangle of thirteen-year-old boys. 

 

One of them commented, "dudes if I ever bring a date here, you have free reign to take me out on the spot."

 

That made them both laugh, and then Raven insisted on a round of Space Invaders, in which she was outrageously victorious since she'd been playing on the vintage Nintendo 64 she'd put back together herself since she was seven. 

 

Raven wanted to play a karaoke game in which your singing was ranked based on pitch-accuracy, but Murphy argued against it.

 

"I'd break the system, Reyes. Trust me, even sweet victory over me wouldn't be worth it."

 

So, she relented and they settled for some kind of NASCAR game. It was one of those more immersive versions, the kind with steering wheels and fake leather seats. She'd only seen them at the cheap movie theater her mom took her to when her dealer was feeling particularly cagey and would only deal in theater number 16, his lucky number. But all of the games were always out of order, so she'd always spent an hour or so while her mom got high merely pretending to play. 

 

This time, she got to play for real, and even though it was kind of dorky, she couldn't hide her excitement.

 

"Jesus, Reyes, who knew a crappy arcade could make you smile like that," Murphy said as he filled the slot with tickets and climbed into the seat next to her.

 

"Like what?" She asked. 

 

She hadn't even realized she'd been smiling, probably like a complete idiot. 

 

"Nevermind," he replied. She wanted to protest, but he started up the game, and they were off. 

 

Murphy was good at the game. He'd clearly played a lot before, and his reflexes were faster than she'd expected. Still, she was focused, and managed to match him pretty well considering she'd never played before. 

 

She knew after they rounded the first lap that he was going to beat her. That didn't mean she'd go down without a fight, though. She was gaining on him but knew the odds of her catching up were slim. They were on their last round and were jeering at one another. Harmless little quips that she barely bothered to put any real thought behind. 

 

It was a lot of, "you drive like my grandma," and replies like, "well, then I'd like to meet her, cause she's clearly a badass," and "are you even gonna put up a fight? I thought the object of the game was to win?"

 

None of it was really important though, she was too focused on the game at hand. If she was going to lose to him, then it was going to be by the smallest margin she could get. 

 

Just as they were rounding the last bend though, with Murphy gaining an even larger lead, one that Raven was slightly disappointed by, he totally crashed. Just veered off into the dirt at the center of the track. She didn't even stop to consider his mistake. Speeding past him, she passed the finish line first, while he finished almost a dismal minute behind.

 

Standing up for her seat, she did a little dance. Gloating her victory. She chanted, probably for longer than was necessary for in an arcade filled with parents and kids under the age of fourteen, "you wish you were me, but you can't be me."

 

He grumbled and looked a little put-out, clearly upset with his loss. She didn't blame him, they were both sore losers, after all. 

 

"Whatever. You've probably been going to arcades for forever, you nerd," he told her.

 

She felt a little embarrassed how wrong he was. 

 

"I've actually never really been to one," she admitted, "well, not one like this. I went to the shitty knock off Chuck-E-Cheese as a kid, but there was definitely no Dave and Busters happening."

 

It only lasted for a second, but he looked a little sad at the thought. 

 

"Typical," he shook his head, "beginner's luck, then." 

 

She grinned widely at him, not caring how immature she was being. "Someone's not taking their spectacular defeat very well."

 

He rolled his eyes. "Fitting that you'd adapt the persona of wherever you are. First, you become a raging sports fanatic at the game, and now, you become a child."

 

She stuck out her tongue, which she knew only proved his point further, but she really just couldn't help herself. "I'll make it up to you," she promised.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yep, anything you want. On me. Just so I don't have to listen to you whine anymore, though," she was careful to add the last part. 

 

"Anything I want?" He asked, and there was something a little dangerous in his tone. Not in a way that was frightening or threatening, but definitely spiked her pulse. 

 

He crossed his arms over his chest and chewed on his lip while she ran a hand through her ponytail and before she could even think about what she was doing or offering or how much of a fool she was making of herself, moved slightly closer to him. 

 

He was smiling at her, and there was something new and exciting in his eyes that she hadn't ever seen before. 

 

Raven didn't know what was happening, but she wasn't about to interrupt the moment, though she was fairly sure it was considered inappropriate to flirt and possibly make out in an arcade full of kids. She couldn't bring herself to care though, not when he was looking at her like that. Like she was actually something he wanted, craved, even. 

 

Of course, Monty chose that moment to find them. 

 

"There you guys are, I've been looking everywhere for you," he said, his tone annoyed. 

 

Murphy immediately created a wide distance between them. She felt the tension that'd been building disappear in the single movement. Whatever had been about to happen between them was gone. Probably for good. Maybe that was for the best, a small part of her thought, but a larger, more dominant part ached for what might've been. 

 

As Monty ushered them out of the arcade and back to the arena and party area, he explained, "we're about to sing and do the cake. Jasper was freaking out that you guys weren't there," he shot them both a loaded look, "Clarke said not to bother, but he wouldn't hear of it." He shook his head and practically groaned, "you know how he is with his birthday. Seriously, you had to pull this today of all days?"

 

She at least had the ability to look sheepish. Murphy didn't even bother trying. 

 

"So who won?" She asked.

 

Monty snorted. "Red, of course. Clarke got out Bellamy and then Jasper. After that, we were done for."

 

"Wanna gloat some more?" Murphy asked her as they entered the room where Jasper shot them a glare.

 

"I think I've got my fill," she replied. 

 

"Oh, really? Raven Reyes has had her fill with rubbing in her win? I thought I'd never see the day," he said, his voice dripping with mock-awe. 

 

"Well, I'm done for now. We'll see how I'm feeling after I've got a couple of beers in me."

 

"That's more like it," he mused.

 

She couldn't retort though, because then they were singing and getting sugar highs off of the cake, and then getting drunk off of the seemingly endless beers Jasper had procured for the event. On par for their group of friends, it didn't go off without a couple of hitches. 

 

First, Harper was so drunk she was doing some kind of faux-ballet around the room, with Monty trailing after her, trying to reign her in. Bellamy seemed to be in shock for some reason and Clarke kept jabbing him with her elbow, asking him if he was taking the loss that hard. She didn't get a chance to talk to Murphy, though she found that she was just waiting for an opportunity to, though she got wrapped into a conversation with Emori and he was trying to keep Jasper from shotgunning a beer, because, "we aren't fucking sixteen years old anymore." 

 

Every time she tried to find a way to talk to him, either she or he got into something else. She still was feeling the exhilarating potential of what had almost happened in the arcade, and even though she knew he liked Clarke, was sleeping with her and dating her and was completely off-limits to her for an innumerable amount of reasons, she couldn't help it.

 

But it wasn't that she was desperate to get the moment from the arcade back, she realized while she held Harper's hair back in the bathroom while she puked. It was that wherever she was, whatever she had been dragged into doing by one of their friends, she always had the most fun with Murphy. 

* * *

Murphy was feeling guilty. Not just because of what had almost happened with Raven in the arcade, and that it had felt suspiciously like a date, but because of what he felt in the aftermath. He'd known, of course, the minute they'd kissed that he wasn't over her, even though he'd wanted to be, but now he couldn't even bring himself to do that. 

 

Clarke had asked for honesty, and really, nothing else. So, he asked her if they could get to Grounders a little before everyone else so they could talk. If he was gonna talk about feelings and be around Raven after, he'd prefer the comfort of a beer. 

 

"What's up? You and Raven kiss again?" Clarke asked the minute they sat down in their usual booth.

 

He nearly choked on his drink. 

 

"What?" She raised a brow. "You didn't screw at Jasper's birthday, did you? I don't know if he'd ever forgive you for making his blessed day about anyone but himself."

 

He frowned. "And what if we had?"

 

She waved a hand. "Nevermind. You clearly didn't. You don't look nearly guilty nor painfully joyous enough for that to have happened. So," she sipped from her cider, "kiss or no?"

 

"No."

 

"Hm," she considered his response for a moment, "is it wrong I'm a little disappointed?"

 

"Disappointed? That I didn't kiss one of our closest friends _again_?"

 

She shrugged. "I don't know, I just figured something had to change after the game. I guess it's just weird that nothing really has, that we're in the same place, and so are they."

 

He thought about what she was saying for a moment and realized he wasn't the only one that had a little bit of guilt etched across his face. 

 

"Nothing happened between me and Reyes. Nothing important, anyway. Just more confirmation of what I already know," he told her, and then because he felt shitty for not saying it, "but there was, you know, a moment."

 

He was a little freaked out by how delighted she looked. 

 

"A moment?" 

 

"It was nothing," he insisted, but she didn't look convinced.

 

"Oh," she nodded, "nothing, huh? Then why are you blushing a little bit right now?"

 

"Fuck you," he shot back.

 

She laughed. "Whatever, just tell me about this supposed moment."

 

"I don't know how to explain it properly," he admitted, "I'm a little confused by it really. I mean, I guess it started when I let her beat me at NASCAR and then—"

 

"Hold up," she said, "you let her win? Raven? The worst winner in the world?"

 

He shrugged, not even wanting to form a response.

 

She _really_ laughed at that, and he threatened to get up and leave, but she calmed herself down and convinced him to go on. He was hesitant to, but really, who else was he going to talk about it to?

 

"It was weird, and I wasn't even really thinking about what I was gonna do or she was gonna do, but it felt like something was going to happen regardless. There was this, kind of tension in the air? Except I felt it into my toes and fingers and my stomach. Like, some kind of electricity. There, make fun of me all you'd like, now."

 

"Sparks?" She asked. "You're telling me you felt legit sparks?" She smirked. "You really are a romantic."

 

He groaned. 

 

"It's cute," she said, but her tone was mocking.

 

"Whatever. My embarrassing shit is done, okay? Now, it's your turn."

 

"My turn?" She was feigning innocence, but he knew he had her. 

 

"It's all over your face, Griffin. So spill before everyone else gets here." He tapped his fingers on his wrist, though he didn't think he'd ever worn a watch in his life. 

 

She turned a little red and took a long sip from her glass. He didn't think she was going to tell him, whatever it was that had happened, but finally, she said, "I kissed Bellamy."

 

His jaw hung open for a second, but it didn't take long for a Cheshire cat grin to spread across his lips. 

 

"Shut up," she muttered.

 

"How is he still alive?" He asked, a little dumbfounded. 

 

He maybe had been expecting something like this to have happened after seeing her face when he had arrived that night, but he didn't actually believe it. After all, she'd been so closed-off about him. Even with his encouragement to let Bellamy back into her life on a trial basis, everything she'd done and said made him think she was still unsure. By the look on her face, it seemed he might still have been right about that part. 

 

"It was just a kiss. It happened at Jasper's party."

 

"And you were accusing me of possibly ruining it by making it about me?" He asked. 

 

She didn't have a response to that but did shoot him a glare over her drink. 

 

"You know what? He did look like he'd stuck his finger in the electrical socket when we got back to the party. And he seemed kind of hazy, definitely bordering of a blissed-out daze, if you ask me. Albeit, a confused one." He was putting the pieces of what had happened in his and Raven's absence and he knew needed to ask the question.

 

"How'd it happen?"

 

At that, Clarke looked positively ashamed of herself.

 

"That bad, huh?" He asked.

 

She mumbled something he couldn't quite make out but got almost enough that he knew he could drag this out and tease her about the sure absurdness of it. 

 

"I'm sorry," he cupped a hand behind his ear, "what was that?"

 

To her credit, she kicked him under the table. Still, she rolled her eyes and said only loud enough for him to hear, "I did it to get him out at laser tag."

 

He sat back in the booth and clapped his hands together and she looked livid. 

 

"That's actually worse than the kiss cam. Really, I'm in awe that you managed to top that disaster."

 

"Screw you. I did it to win, okay?"

 

He raised a single brow at that. "I thought we agreed to be honest with one another?"

 

She sighed, admitting defeat. "Fine. I did it because I was curious, okay? Because I've been feeling these things for so long now and I thought maybe if I did it, I don't know, I'd get it out of my system and finally be free?"

 

"But?" He asked expectantly.

 

"It made it so much worse," she said with a groan, "so much fucking worse than it ever was before. It wasn't even a real kiss, but it made me realize once again that I am so screwed."

 

He clinked his glass against hers. "Well, looks like we're even in that department once more."

 

"Seriously, Murphy. It's not funny."

 

He tilted his head to the side. "It's a little funny, you gotta admit."

 

"Glad to know my plight is humorous," she replied, crossing her arms. 

 

"Oh come on," he said, taking a swig from his beer bottle, "mine is too. I mean, I felt, supposedly, sparks around a woman that probably doesn't even want me. Or at least, isn't able to tell me that she does. Doesn't get more pathetic than that."

 

"I suppose you do have a point there," and she grinned.

 

He laid a hand across his chest, "and I thought we were in this together."

 

She went quiet for a moment, so he asked, "you okay though? Not feeling too regretful or upset about it?"

 

"I'm just thinking," she responded.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Is it weird?" She gestured between the two of them. "That we're still doing this? Even though neither one of us is exactly in a place where we care about the other exclusively, where we can even imagine that? Does it feel like we're pretending, or hiding from the truth?"

 

"Do you want to stop?" It seemed the obvious question to ask, though he already knew his own answer.

 

She mulled this over for a while. "Is it wrong that I don't?"

 

"Not at all, 'cause I don't either," he said right away, trying his best at reassuring. It wasn't exactly his strong point. 

 

"So it's not weird, then?" She was biting her lip and glancing towards the door, watching for their friends, for which he was grateful. This wasn't a conversation he wanted any of them hearing, especially two people in particular. 

 

"Oh, it's definitely weird." He gave her a smirk, which eventually she returned, seemingly feeling better about the situation.

 

Though he hadn't really been thinking about it at all until she brought it up, he couldn't stop thinking about it all night once she did. Not when the rest of their friends got there, or during their pool tournament, and not even when it came to head home.

 

That night, he was restless. Clarke slept as soundly as ever, but he couldn't shake the questions she'd raised, and whether or not they were something he should've considered after he and Raven first kissed. He had fun with Clarke, he enjoyed her company, and the sex had never been a problem between them. After everything they'd been through together, he trusted her more than most people in his life. But he couldn't shake the possibility that her concerns had had some weight.

 

Were they just playing pretend by being together? And was that not just harming Raven and Bellamy's hearts, but their own, too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooof what an end? I hope you don't hate me too much for possibly spelling an end to a relationship I've really loved writing, but we do have to get to our endgame.
> 
> check out my [tumblr](https://detectivebellamyblake.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	16. Greek (or rather, Roman) Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my lovelies!! this chapter was super fun to write, as we get another costume party! there's a fair amount of group dynamics in here, and I did my best to add equal parts of murven and bellarke here. of course, there's some angst too, but it's necessary for the story to move along.
> 
> once again, I just want to thank everyone for their kind words about my story. I never imagined I'd get this kind of response, and I will never stop being amazed and grateful for all of you. AND ALSO THAT THIS WILD LITTLE FIC MADE IT THROUGH THE FIRST ROUND OF THE BFWAS!! I cannot believe it and that I have such wonderful and dedicated readers ❤︎

Bellamy's birthday wasn't something he'd celebrated much as a kid, usually because money was tight or his mom was working late (when she did have a job) or his step-dad of the month wasn't interested in him enough to warrant doing anything. After he'd met his friends in college though, he realized birthdays were a big deal. Perhaps they weren't all quite on Jasper's level, but certainly, something that included some kind of party and embarrassing headgear. 

 

This year, Jasper promised him that it would be the best night of his life. Rather than excite him, this filled him with dread. It wasn't that he didn't think his friends would do everything in their power to make his birthday special, but it wasn't something he'd ever been that interested in, and it seemed that something always went wrong the day of that threatened to ruin it. The year before, he and Octavia had gotten into an explosive fight in front of everyone, and it was kind of the last straw in them deciding they needed to work on their relationship.

 

Over the years, he'd taken to working exceedingly hard at convincing them that he actually had a good time at the parties they threw, though he knew Clarke had always seen through it. The only saving grace was that even she seemed to believe in this year. Maybe there was hope for his birthday yet. 

 

Clarke and Murphy were throwing it at their place, so he and Raven made plans to walk over together. In the last month, he'd been dreading this night, but his mind had also been whirling in the wake of his kiss with Clarke. Since he knew she'd be the only one who could really understand his plight, and refrain from meddling or telling anyone else, he'd confided in Raven the night of Jasper's party. 

 

"Dude, you gotta stop freaking out about one kiss," she told him as they left their apartment. 

 

"I know," he groaned, "it's just—you know,"

 

"Clarke," she finished, nodding sympathetically. "Believe me, I get it. Hell, I was in the same position with Murphy after our kiss at the game. I thought..." She trailed off. "I don't know, that there was the tiniest bit of a chance that it would change things. I held onto that for probably much longer than I should have."

 

After he'd confessed about the kiss Clarke had given him, seemingly just as a tactic to get him out of laser tag and secure her win, Raven had told him about what had happened with Murphy. While she hadn't said it exactly, he could tell she still had feelings for him and the fact that he had signaled to her that he didn't want it to mean what she did, it had been a significant blow. 

  

"But, we have to let it go, because if either of those events meant something to them, then we'd know by now."

 

"You're right."

 

As much as he didn't want to admit it, as much as he wanted the kiss to be as amazing and altering for her as it was for him, he felt she was right. If it really had made a difference in how she saw their relationship moving forward, he'd know. 

 

"Of course, I am," she smirked, but the triumph didn't fully reach her eyes.

 

So far, Clarke had been acting as if nothing had happened. They'd hung out a couple of times, and she hadn't even made a joke about it. Which he would've given him hope, that she felt scared or didn't know what to think, or _something._  But she didn't act any different around him, which extinguished any smallest bit of belief that she still had feelings for him, or at least, ever planned to really act on those feelings. 

 

"It sucks though, right? I'm allowed to complain about it a little, just to you, right?" He asked.

 

"Definitely," she agreed, "I fully intend on doing so after we get home tonight."

 

"Can't wait."

 

"Asshole, like you aren't gonna do the same." She splayed a hand across her forehead. "Oh, Clarke. How I love thee. How I wish thee would forgive me for being such a dick. How I dream of a time when you will _let my love open the door to your heart._ " She had the audacity to sing out the last bit to the tune of the song of the same name.

 

He shoved her playfully as they approached Clarke and Murphy's door. 

 

"I do not sound like that," he protested.

 

"We'll see. I hear Monty's making his signature jungle juice tonight."

 

"God save us all," he groaned. 

 

They knocked, and Murphy opened the door with a flourish, drink already in hand. Raven burst out laughing at the sight of him. 

 

It took Bellamy a second to realize that his birthday actually had a _theme_ , but he got there pretty quickly. 

 

"A toga party, seriously?" 

 

He was dressed in a white sheet that was knotted together at the shoulders. He had a second green one draped over top the white, which was cut and ended around the knees. He even had a pair of sandals on. It had clearly been slightly thrown together, but there was definitely a degree of thought into it that suggested Murphy genuinely cared about it, which was near-unheard of for him. 

 

"It's not a toga party, and don't blame me," he said, raising his hands in surrender, "it was Clarke's idea."

 

Bellamy ran a hand over his face. Now the effort in his costume made much more sense. 

 

Murphy pointed a finger at him. "And she's spent weeks getting this thing together, so you're gonna act like it's the best goddamn birthday ever, got it?"

 

Bellamy plastered a fake smile on his face, but one he hoped we be convincing enough. 

 

"He meant for you look happy, not like Pennywise," Raven quipped. 

 

He glared at her and she grinned. 

 

"Just trying to be helpful."

 

Shooting her an unimpressed look, he followed Murphy into the house, and nearly gaped at what he saw. 

 

"As I said, she's been planning this for a while," Murphy explained. 

 

He couldn't believe it. The normal, haphazardly decorated rowhome had been completely transformed into a replica of ancient Rome. The walls had paper cutouts of columns on them and there were carefully decorated signs all over the place that regulated different areas of the house as different parts of the city itself. While it couldn't be one hundred percent accurate, he was amazed by the amount of effort that must've gone into it. He had been expecting something unbearable, but now, he actually found himself excited about his birthday. 

 

It was a small gathering of people, nothing too crazy. Just their group of friends. She really did know him, he thought. Never had a party been so curated for exactly what he loved.

 

Everyone else was already there and to his surprise and, he couldn't help it, delight, dressed in some kind of ancient Roman dress, most of which had been provided by Clarke herself, Murphy told them before he called out for Clarke, who was preparing a round of cocktails in the kitchen. 

 

"You ready to get Roman-ed?" Murphy asked them.

 

Raven and Bellamy looked at one another in confusion.

 

"Clarke insisted on not telling either one of you since she knew you wouldn't be able to keep a secret," he nodded to Raven.

 

"I can too!" She protested.

 

"Sure," he deadpanned, "but she did get you both outfits to change into. Come on, Reyes, let's get you in a toga. Just like old times," he smirked, drawing up memories of the parties they'd attended in college. 

 

"I am so gonna need alcohol if you're actually going to be bringing up college all night."

 

Murphy laughed a little and the two of them started off in the direction of upstairs. Bellamy started to follow, but Murphy turned and stopped him.

 

"Why don't I deal with this one first," he said, "and you wait for Clarke. She should be done making the first round soon."

 

He was suspicious of the other's motives but shrugged and agreed, he didn't want her to think that he wasn't completely blown away by the effort she'd put into the party. Though a few minutes later when he saw Clarke, he questioned if Murphy hadn't been trying to kill him. 

 

When she came out, carrying a tray of mojitos, it took all of his control to prevent his jaw from dropping. While almost everyone else was in cut up sheets that were draped over their figures, with the most decorative being Jasper's, who had wrapped up one of his lightsabers in construction paper drawn to make it resemble a sword, none of them could even compare to what Clarke was wearing.

 

She was in full-on gladiator armor. It looked incredibly accurate, even by his standards. There was a detailed breastplate over a short red flowing piece of fabric that was fixed at her shoulders. Her hair was half down and half up and was twisted into two small braids clipped to the side of her head. She had shiny gold sandals that tied up her shins. And that's when he noticed her legs. God, her fucking _legs_. They were going to be the death of him, he knew it.

 

Still, he somehow found the ability to stop gawking. 

 

"So, you already finding my mistakes?" She asked, handing him a drink.

 

"Mistakes?" He asked, bewildered. "I don't know how there could possibly be any." He looked around in wonder. "This is amazing, Clarke. I can't believe you did all this."

 

She ducked her head, and he could tell she was trying to hide her blush. 

 

"Well, you know, I probably couldn't help it with all those documentaries you made me watch."

 

The whole costume, hell the whole party, must've been near-impossible to put together, but she managed to look both stunning and powerful—like she could take him down no problem. He was having trouble remembering to breathe. It wasn't just that she looked absolutely beautiful, but that she had done this all for him, had gone to this kind of lengths for something she knew he hadn't ever really enjoyed. It set his heart into overdrive and his stomach fluttering with nerves and overjoyed gratitude for having her in his life. 

 

"Well, then I guess I can't help but be grateful for your pain if it meant getting the most intricately planned party I've ever had," he replied. 

 

Her face lit up at that, triumph clear in it, but something else too, a flicker in her eyes he hadn't seen in a long, long time. 

 

"Hey, Clarkeeeee!" Jasper pleaded from the other side of the room. "We are in desperate need of those delicious drinks right about now."

 

She laughed. "Sorry the drinks aren't themed better, but Murphy assured me it would be alright by you since you're one of my biggest cocktail fans," he nodded his head, assuring her that it was more than fine.

 

He wanted to launch into another round of compliments, but Miller called over, "Hey! This toga's got a weird breeze going on, and I'd prefer to be too drunk to notice."

 

"Better go and make sure there isn't a rebellion, you know how our friends can get," and she told him to go get changed in her room while she made sure their friends' systems were properly occupied with alcohol. 

 

He bounded up the stairs, buzzing though he hadn't even had a sip of his drink yet. He vaguely could hear Murphy and Raven laughing from inside his bedroom, but was entirely too distracted by the image of Clarke in her costume to focus in on it too much. He had done his best to be respectful when he'd been in front of her, but he couldn't help where his mind went once he was out of her sight. The fact that he now knew she'd switched up her shampoo to something that smelled like lavender and sage and what her lips felt like only made things impossibly worse for him. There wasn't a chance in hell for him though, and he had to keep Raven's words in mind. Though he found that concept very far away from his mind when he saw the outfit Clarke had laid out for him on her bed. 

 

It was almost an exact match to hers, except obviously larger and, if it was possible, the breastplate was more intricately ornate with details. It showed off a lot of arm, but he didn't really have anything to be ashamed about. But the fact that it was  _Clarke_ that had picked it out sent thrills coursing through his veins. It came complete with an actual prop sword. One that wasn't made of rubber or plastic, but a thick material he couldn't quite place. It was probably the best present he'd ever received. 

 

When he made it downstairs, Monty wolf-whistled and Harper clapped. Jackson squinted at him and said to Miller, "you think you could borrow that sometime?" Which led to Miller rolling his eyes but sneaking a wink at his boyfriend. 

 

Jasper came over and inspected the sword. "Damn, Clarke really went all out, and here I thought I was gonna out-stage everyone," he shook his head, "should've known better than to bet against her when it comes to you, though." Realizing that he'd said something he probably shouldn't have, he downed the rest of his drink and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he found some kind of response. "I mean, uh, you know, that you're such good friends and..."

 

But he was sure the damage was all over his face. Just the idea that Clarke might've been open to her feelings for him again, even while he knew she was happy with Murphy, it made him abandon any hope of listening to Raven's warning that the kiss had meant nothing. 

 

Clarke came over and Jasper immediately made himself scarce. "What happened there?" She asked, smirking slightly as she sipped from a red solo cup. It was a little like being back in college, only with way more intense costumes and less vomiting. Well, the night was still young for the second part, he supposed. 

 

"Nothing," but it came out too quickly, and she looked at him weirdly. "I mean, you know how Jasper is, he just practically confessed that ready to marry Maya," he nodded over to the couple, where they were giggling together over something. Bellamy prayed it wasn't about him and Clarke, but really, he knew better. 

 

"Oh god," she groaned, "maybe I should have lunch with him next week, try and convince him what a horrible idea that is," she read the expression on his face and added, "not that Maya isn't crazy about him, of course, but she's definitely not there yet."

 

"Well," he couldn't help but grin a little, "she is probably the most-adjusted girlfriend he's ever had. Scratch that, the only girlfriend he's ever had? He's not used to it."

 

"You do have a point," she agreed, "how do you have such a good read on people?"

 

He didn't know what to say to that, because he wasn't sure that he did, really. He hadn't been able to read what Clarke really wanted from him in a long time, and he had given up hope that he would be able to—and that he was helplessly at her mercy too. 

 

"You're just saying that because it's my birthday."

 

She argued, "I would never compliment you just for your benefit, or because I pity you because you hate your birthday."

 

He snorted. "Good to know."

 

"Brutal honesty is one of the fundamentals of any beautiful friendship."

 

"You've got it wrong though," he said, "at least, the part about hating my birthday."

 

"Oh, really?" She raised her brows in surprise.

 

"Really," he affirmed. "Well, this year."

 

She looked a little stunned for a moment, but she recovered after a moment. "Yeah?"

 

He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to hold back a blush more furious than the one he'd had when he first came downstairs in his outfit. "Yeah."

 

And she smiled so brightly at him, he couldn't even think about not returning one that was just as intense. 

* * *

Raven shouldn't have been shocked by the amount of detail Clarke had put into Bellamy's party, but she hadn't seen him laugh so much or look so happy since before Abby's birthday party, and it was nice to see her roommate having such a good time, especially on a day he'd never been too keen about in the past. 

 

Her own costume was much more subdued than his or Clarke's, but she preferred it that way. Hers was rather similar to Murphy's, except her second sheet was red and not green. 

 

"Look at us," he'd commented after she came out of Clarke's bathroom in her sheets, "we're Christmas."

 

She couldn't help but laugh at the lameness of the statement. She was finding it more and more difficult to control anything she did around Murphy after their kiss. It annoyed the hell out of her, how little she was able to reign herself in. 

 

"Aw, look," Monty said as they came downstairs, "Murphy made sure Raven got her security blanket color."

 

"Yeah, which he practically ripped out of my hands," Emori shot at him, eyebrows raised and a wry smile on her face that told her she was more amused than angry. 

 

He looked sheepish, and she wondered if it was only the drink he'd already had that led to the slight flush that flamed up his neck. 

 

She didn't know how to respond to the fact that Murphy had actually fought one of their friends just so she could wear her favorite color, so she went with teasing. 

 

"And here I thought you believed I was a lesser person for loving it so much. Seems to me you actually respect the hell out of me  _and_ my love for the absolute superiorness of my favorite color."

 

They were back into their comfortable place with that, and he seemed actually grateful that she'd chosen to make light of the situation. "Please," his tone was dry, "I just knew you'd whine like a five-year-old all night if you didn't get it. Don't go thinking you're special now."

 

"Wouldn't ever dream of it," she said and went to grab herself a beer. Since Clarke had sworn to only be in charge of cocktails, the only beer there was the kind Miller liked. She took a sip and winced. "What is this?" She asked, examining the bottle. 

 

"Triple IPA. It's a classic," Miller replied, his tone clearly a little hurt. 

 

" _Triple?_ " Monty looked pained. "Do they even make that? Or did you brew it yourself?"

 

Miller's eyes lit up. "Now that you mention it, I should think about brewing my own."

 

Jackson shot a glare at Monty. "Look what you've done. Before I know it, he'll demand we move just so he can start a brewing room."

 

"Aw, babe, you'd give me my own brewing room?"

 

"Only to keep it locked away where no one would have to deal with its existence," Jackson replied.

 

"Lincoln is proud of _my_ meditation books," Octavia gloated. "He says they make his art therapy patients feel at home, and comfortable in our place."

 

"That's because it's part of my work," Lincoln argued, but he also didn't say anything against Jackson's idea of handling his boyfriend possibly becoming a home-brewer. 

 

Miller grumbled something about how the people at work loved his taste in beer and the rest of them were just incapable of understanding quality when they had it. 

 

Harper gave him a sympathetic look, and said, "I'm sure they're great, once you get a taste for that kind of thing," but Raven had noticed that she hadn't touched a single one of the beers he'd brought. 

 

"A taste for what? Bitter rainwater?" Murphy asked loud enough for only her to hear, making her jump a little at his closeness as she hadn't noticed his approach. "Jesus, you that afraid of me?"

 

It wasn't that she was afraid of him. Not at all, really. It was that she was thinking about their kiss and the almost moment they'd had at Jasper's birthday so much, she could barely function around him. She couldn't get it out of her head, what could've happened if they weren't interrupted by Monty. She knew this was in exact contradiction to what she'd told Bellamy, but she didn't claim to be that great at taking her own advice. 

 

"Cause you're _so_ scary." 

 

"Don't know," he shrugged, "I can be pretty freaky when it comes down to it."

 

She wrinkled her nose. 

 

"Not in that way!" He laughed. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

 

"Can you blame me? This is you we're talking about. When isn't  _your_ mind in the gutter?" He faltered a little, and she knew she'd made her point. "See? I'm so right."

 

"That's only because everyone here is walking around barely clothed," he argued, "I'm a simple man, I can hardly be blamed for that, especially when you're showing off that super sexy shoulder."

 

For a second, he had her, and then she realized he was joking, and she rolled her eyes to cover up her disappointment that he hadn't been genuinely flirting with her. "You're terrible, you know that? I think your sense of humor has actually gotten worse and worse since we became friends."

 

"Wonder who I got that from?" He grinned around his cup as he went to take a sip. 

 

She swiped it out of his hand though and drained it while he made a shrill noise of protest. "You deserve it," she said, "for insulting my amazing sense of humor just because you've got a itty bitty booboo on your pride."

 

"Like anything between us is itty bitty," he shot back. 

 

He seemed as surprised as she was by the comment, and neither one knew what to say. Luckily, they were rescued by Harper, who was insisting they break out the karaoke machine Jasper had purchased for Bellamy's birthday.

 

"He opened his own present to Bellamy?" Raven asked with amusement.

 

Bellamy shrugged. "I figured it would happen, besides, now Clarke and I get to show off with our duet."

 

She groaned. Knowing them, it would be choreographed.

 

"No way," Murphy responded, "Reyes and I are definitely taking you down."

 

She looked at him, and said, "I thought you didn't sing?" And she could tell that he was thinking about their almost something at the arcade too, even if it was just for a second. 

 

"To kick their obnoxious asses, I'll risk shattering the windows," he told her. 

 

She grinned and held up a hand to high-five, which he immediately did, gripped her hand in his own. 

 

"We got this."

 

The idea that he might still have feelings for her sent an insane kind of hope through her. If he really was into Clarke, then would that moment have even happened? It seemed like that even though the two of them were definitely into one another, she might've actually stood a chance of Murphy letting her in, fully in, again.

 

It freaked her out if she was being honest with herself. It was much easier to be into Murphy when she didn't think there was any hope of a future between the two of them. All of her relationships had ended in such disaster, it was difficult to imagine one working out, especially with him. She had to fight the urge to bail on doing karaoke with him, to bail on ever speaking to him again. A part of her knew that whatever they had wasn't like what she'd had with Finn or Shaw, though that didn't make the need to run any less strong. As much as she wanted to though, she knew she couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to Murphy or herself. Whatever was happening between them, even if it was nothing, in the end, she had to face it. 

* * *

Clarke and Bellamy had completely smashed everyone else with their routine of  _Don't You Want Me,_ though it was the first time they'd done it in over a year, and it brought about a little bit of awkwardness as they watched the rest of their friends perform. 

 

Harper was in the middle of belting out a Pussycat Dolls song when he inclined his head towards the patio. They both made an excuse to go out, though she was sure they all saw through it. But they must've sensed that the two of them needed the time to talk because no one made so much as the smallest teasing comment about it.

 

For a moment, they stood in silence outside. It was starting to get properly cold, and she shivered from having so much exposed skin. That only reminded her of how much he was showing off too, which made her cheeks heat up despite the weather. Some part of her had known what she was doing when she'd picked it out. After all, she'd seen him in a bathing suit, she knew what he looked like without a shirt on. But she'd convinced herself that she was just being a good friend, a caring one that just wanted the best outfit for him. Of course, the minute he came downstairs she had to confront her own reality. 

 

It wasn't just the physical stuff though, it was the way he'd looked at her with such adoration when he'd seen her own attire and the way he'd thanked her for the party—like it was the best thing anyone had ever done for him. 

 

"Sorry," Bellamy said, "I figured...I don't know, I wanted to talk to you, and thought it might be better to do in private."

 

"Okay," she nodded.

 

She had an idea of what he wanted to talk about, and it scared her, facing the kiss and what it had meant to her, especially considering she was still dating Murphy. 

 

"Raven told me that I should let it go, that since it happened during a game of laser tag and you haven't brought up that it meant nothing, but," he ran a hand through his curls, "I would like to talk about the kiss if you would, too. I'll understand if it was just a stupid thing to win the game, and accept that and never bring it up again, but I can't stop thinking about it or you or what it could've meant and I..." He trailed off, "I'm rambling, so I'm gonna stop now and let you answer me." He smiled sheepishly, and she would've returned it and made a joke about his little speech if she wasn't so nervous about the subject matter.

 

"We can talk about it."

 

He looked so relieved, and she couldn't help the little bit of guilt that washed over her, though really, she didn't have anything to feel bad about it. She didn't think so, at least.

 

"I wish I could tell you I knew exactly what it meant," she confessed. 

 

His smile faltered, but he didn't look at her with any sort of disdain, just open understanding. 

 

She went on, "I did do it to win the game, I think. I mean," she blushed out of shame, "I knew that it would distract you enough that I could get you out." At that, he blushed too, though she suspected it was more from the embarrassment that he'd been so obvious. 

 

"That's okay," he reassured her, "we don't have to talk about it anymore. I get it and I'm not upset or anything, okay?" He started for the door, but she held out a hand and touched his arm to stop him. 

 

She felt the heat of his body against the palm of her hand and quickly pulled it away, but a part of her ached not to, or to touch him again. If his facial expression was anything to go by, he felt the same. 

 

"Wait," she said, and her voice was near a whisper. "I...I didn't expect it to, or really want it to," she figured it was best, to be completely honest with him, "but, I did feel something. During the kiss," she paused, "and after. I still do." She sighed. "I know it isn't right, to confuse you like this, though really, I'm probably more at a loss of what to do."

 

He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, but she wasn't sure she had any more words left in her or was able to articulate exactly how she felt about him and their kiss and Murphy and the entire mess she'd found herself in.

 

"It's okay to be confused, Clarke," he finally replied. "It's kind of a fucked situation, you know? There are so many feelings involved and I...Look, I get it if you'd rather dismiss whatever we both are feeling in the wake of everything that happened. If that's easier for you and our friendship, then that's what we should do."

 

She was so grateful that he was willing to do whatever was best for their friendship, whatever kept the newly-repaired relationship that she had treasured for so long, but she knew it wasn't that simple. 

 

"I don't know what to do. A part of me is terrified by everything I'm feeling, and then another can't help but think about it all the time, about how good it feels." It scared her to admit as much, and she wasn't sure what else she could say without furthering either one of their confusion or making things even more complicated. 

 

He licked his lips, "I don't know what to do either, really. Except to say, if there's even a chance that you don't want that, then I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere, and I," he took a breath, "I'm in love with you. Have been for years. You're the most challenging and incredible person I've ever met. You're the friend I probably don't deserve but somehow have lucked out in having. We've been impossible with one another since we met, but I think I fell in love with you when I realized it wasn't that I didn't just not want to live without you, but I couldn't. I know that this isn't the right time or maybe even the right words, but I can't help it," he gave her a sort of sad, soft smile, "I'm in love with you and might always be, and I'm okay if all we ever are is friends, but I need you to know, just in case."

 

She stood there, absolutely stunned for a moment. She didn't say anything because she could think of absolutely nothing she could say. That she loved him too? Yes, of course, but there was more to it than that. After a while, he looked so goddamn nervous and guilty.

 

"Oh, God, Clarke," he said softly. "I'm so sorry. We're friends, we're always going to be friends, and that's all I need, all I want, okay?" And then he kissed her softly on the cheek and went back inside. 

 

The rest of the party went well, considering how awkward they were around one another. They sang, ate cake, and Lincoln helped loft Jasper into an Uber. 

 

Later, as they were cleaning up, Murphy asked, "is that the last of solo cups?" 

 

"I think so," she sighed. 

 

For a second, she just looked at him as he finished wiping down the kitchen countertops. It made her sad, she realized, watching him while she knew how she felt, and then she knew for certain what she had to do. 

 

"Can we talk?" She asked quietly, leaning against the sink. 

 

He took one look at her and figured it out before she even said a word. Offering a small smile, he nodded. 

 

"I think you know what I'm gonna say, but I think you still deserve to hear the whole truth of it."

 

He gestured for her to go on. 

 

"Bellamy told me he's in love with me tonight," at that, his eyebrows shot up, though he let her continue, "but that's not the reason I think we should end this. It's me, and my feelings," she took a shaky breath, "I love him too, and even though I didn't say it back tonight, I still feel it, and that's not fair to you nor our relationship. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You've been the only person I felt I could really trust these past few months, the person I relied on the most, and I hope I was that for you, too. But we both went into this knowing the reality, and I...I don't feel as if I'm getting over him, in fact, I'm falling more in love with him if that's even possible. And I can't risk losing your friendship. So, I think we have to stop. Dating. Screwing," she smiled a little, "but I'd like to keep you as a roommate and friend if that would be okay."

 

He took a moment to reply, but when he did, it wasn't at all what she expected, "fuck, Clarke. I don't know what took us so long to figure it out. I thought we were smarter than this, you know?"

 

She laughed a little at that, even though it was still so sad, that they were ending. 

 

"If we're really embracing the honesty, I gotta get some stuff out there too, that alright?" 

 

"Definitely, say whatever you need to," she replied. 

 

"I love her still, same as you," he said, "I didn't plan on it, or even want it. But I guess it's been showing in little ways for me. There have been no declarations of love, and I'm pretty sure she's still scared shitless to actually try with me, but it's the fact that she teases me, but with this look in her eyes that tells me she secretly likes my lame jokes or the fact that I know just the way to make her laugh or that we're both competitive as fuck at crappy arcade games. There's no getting rid of how I feel about her, at least, not when I think she might feel the same," Clarke had to hold back a grin at the look on his face, as if he'd never imagined something like that could happen to him, "and I agree, it isn't fair to either one of us. But I think I'm onto you with keeping me around."

 

She was more than a little shocked at that comment and what it implied. "What? No, I mean, I really want you as a friend and—"

 

"You just still want me to be around as your personal chef so you don't starve to death."

 

She snorted. Of course, he knew exactly how to make an impossible situation light and easy. He knew how to quell her own worries and his own, it was one of the things she cherished most about him. 

 

"I might just be a little bit guilty in that concern," she was a little sheepish, but it was the truth. His cooking consistently beat out anything she picked up in the freezer aisle.

 

"Got you," he smirked.

 

"Is it weird if we hug?"

 

"Oh, for sure," he responded. 

 

But he pulled her into his arms anyway and held her tight. They stood there for just a moment, taking in everything they'd given one another since Bellamy had gotten engaged and they'd first slept together. Murphy had been through it all with her, had helped pick up the pieces when she didn't think she ever would, and she had done the same for him. As much as she never imagined anything like that would be possible between the two of them, she was so happy it had been him. 

 

Despite the break-up and Bellamy's confession, she fell asleep easily that night, a dreamless, deep sleep. One that she was shaken wildly from by her phone ringing.

 

She fumbled to answer it, and got out a sleepy, "hello?"

 

"Clarke?" It was Kane, whom she hadn't spoken to since her mother's party. 

 

"What? What is it?" She asked, suddenly annoyed. Mostly because she'd been woken up from the best sleep she'd possibly ever had. 

 

His voice was frantic. "Clarke, you have to get down to Arkadia General."

 

She was still half-asleep and confused by what he was saying. "What?"

 

"It's your mother," he paused, "it's _bad_. I know things between you aren't easy or the best right now, but I wouldn't have called if...She might not make it."

 

Her stomach dropped and her pulse skyrocketed. 

 

"What happened?" The sleep had cleared from her voice and her tone was filled with dread, for she felt she already knew the answer to her question. 

 

"She overdosed."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to leave you on a bit of a cliff-hanger! just a warning, the next chapter is a little heavier than the last couple have been, but I've done my best to handle the subject with the utmost care and sensitivity. 
> 
> check out my [tumblr](https://detectivebellamyblake.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	17. We Had a Promise Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I really couldn't wait to get this chapter up, especially given the cliffhanger I left you with at the end of the previous one. so, here's another update for all you lovelies!
> 
> as always, I am amazed and humbled by the response I've received. it never feels truly real and I just wanna thank each and every one of you for being such incredible readers.

When he imagined receiving The Call in the middle of the night, he always figured it'd be because of Octavia, but it wasn't. The Call ended up not even being about him, or at least, not tied to him directly. In the end, The Call was all about Clarke.

 

He woke to his phone blaring in the middle of the night, and for a moment, he wondered if it was Clarke wanting to talk about what he'd said at the party, but when he saw Murphy's name, he was filled with dread. 

 

"Kane found her," he explained over the phone as Bellamy hurried to get dressed, "Clarke hasn't said a word since we got here. The doctors talked to her for like, a minute, but I guess they're busy or whatever."

 

There was deep concern in his tone, and he understood the feeling. Time after time Bellamy had tried to help Clarke through each relapse, each promise that "this time was different," and she hardly ever let him truly comfort her. When it came to her mother, she preferred to suffer in silence. Once he was dressed, he woke Raven. She started spewing curses so Bellamy told Murphy he'd be there as soon as possible and hung up the phone. 

 

"What the fucking fuck do you fucking want at this fucking hour?" She asked, head still buried into her pillow. 

 

"It's Abby. She overdosed, they're at the hospital now," and the worry in tone must've been worse off than he thought because she immediately got out of bed and rummaged around in her draws. 

 

"Get lost," she said, "you go to the hospital right now and be there. I'll get coffee and bagels for us to eat in a sad little circle while we wait. It'll probably be another two hours or so at least until they can tell us anything."

 

"Raven," he started, but she cut him off. 

 

"I'm a delegator. I'm good at it, and you know it, and right now, I need to delegate." She swept her hair into a ponytail and continued, "so, we're both gonna do what we're best at. You're going to comfort her and make sure Murphy doesn't assault anyone, and I'll make sure we can have the most pathetic breakfast known to mankind. It sounds like Murphy's got informing everyone else, so at least that's taken care of."

 

He stood there for a second, a little bit in awe of her, but then she snapped for him to get moving. He did as he was told. If he hadn't been half-asleep still, he probably would've tried to speed to the hospital, but he didn't trust himself enough to do it. Thankfully, the roads were pretty much deserted at that hour. He did drive faster than he normally would've, not that that was really something even remotely dangerous. Clarke liked to joke that he drove with the weariness of having an eight-year-old and sleeping twin toddlers in the backseat.

 

The thought of the joke made him feel all the more worried about her. How many times could she pick herself up after her mother did this and still be okay? Whatever that number was, he couldn't help but feeling they were inching towards it. He knew Murphy was there for her at the moment, which was really the only comfort he could get from the situation. 

 

The minute he got to the hospital, he texted Murphy and found out which floor they were on, and set off for the waiting room. It didn't occur to him until he had gotten off the elevator that the last time he'd been with Clarke, he had told he was in love with her. In the urgency to get to her, he hadn't thought about if she actually wanted him there. But Murphy had called him, he reassured himself, and he wouldn't have done that if she was upset with him or wishing to avoid him. Besides, the confession was so small in comparison to what she was going through, and all he wanted was to be there for her, in whatever capacity she might've needed. 

 

When he got to the waiting area, all his anxieties or thoughts of anything else except her well-being entirely disappeared. She was sitting in one those stiff chairs with a wooden frame and ugly patterned seat cushion. Her hands were clasped in her lap and she was staring blankly ahead in front of her. Murphy was in the chair beside her, running a hand across his forehead. No one else had gotten there yet, and as soon as he saw Bellamy, he strode over. 

 

"Hey, thanks for coming."

 

"Of course," he replied, "Raven's getting provisions. How about everyone else?"

 

"Clarke wanted you to be the first one we called," Murphy told him, glancing over his shoulder to look at her. He shook his head and turned back to Bellamy, "everyone else knows now though. I just got off the phone with Miller. Jackson's still on shift down in neurology, but the rest of them are all on their way."

 

"How bad?" There was no way he was going to ask Clarke that, and he needed to know. 

 

Murphy sighed. "They haven't told us much. Just that it was bad. It looks like she started using heroin," Bellamy swallowed, but he went on, "they aren't sure when because she's apparently isolated herself these past couples of months. Kane is on the phone with his office. He's supposed to have some major meeting with a candidate that he's trying to push so he can stay. He's been pretty helpful though, all things considered."

 

He nodded. While he certainly wasn't Abby's biggest fan and hadn't always gotten along with Kane, he respected the man and knew he cared about both Griffin women. 

 

"What about Clarke?" He asked, lowering his voice so that she wouldn't hear. 

 

"As well as can be expected. She won't really let me in or talk about it. She's just all clinical about it. As if it isn't her mother she's talking about. I don't know, it's..." It seemed as if he was going to tell him something, but decided against it. "I don't know how to get her through this. I haven't done it before, not like you."

 

"I'm sure you're the one she needs the most right now."

 

It was slightly awkward, but if he needed to comfort Murphy in order to comfort Clarke, then he'd gladly do it, as weird as it might've been. 

 

Murphy was more stubborn than Bellamy gave him credit for though. "I don't know, I think...Look, it's no easy feat admitting when I'm not equipped for a situation, but I don't know how to behave when it comes to family. Haven't got much experience, you know?" He glanced at his phone. "Octavia and Lincoln just got here with Jasper. I'm gonna go meet them in the lobby. Could you try talking to her? Or hell, just trying to get that scary expression off her face? I'm worried she's gonna go all _Carrie_ on us." The joke failed to land, but that was more to do with the situation than the content. 

 

If Murphy really believed, and hell, was practically begging, Bellamy to try and get Clarke to open up, then he knew the situation was desperate. He supposed the other was right, he did have experience with this situation.

 

"Of course," he agreed, "I'll see if I can help."

 

He clapped him on the shoulder lightly. "Thanks, man."

 

After he had rounded the corner, Bellamy took the seat he had recently vacated. He wanted to be able to say exactly the right thing, to do just whatever he could to let her know that he was there for her, no matter what happened or how she was feeling. Whatever she needed, he wanted her to know he'd give it to her if he could. The words for all of that were too much though, of everything. Too much pressure for one, and could possibly be suffocating for her. 

 

So, instead, he went with, "Raven's getting us coffee and bagels. She's probably going to try and force that jalapeno cream cheese spread on us again."

 

For a second, he regretted it and thought that he should've gone with something more standard, like, "I'm here for you," but then she cracked the smallest of smiles.

 

"God, when will she learn it's garlic and chive or nothing?" 

 

A bit of relief leaked through but halted due to the far-away look she still had in her eyes. He tilted his head to the side and, after a bit of hesitation, reached out and place a hand over her two clasped ones. He had planned to pull away after a minute, but when he went to, she stopped him, folding their fingers together. 

 

"I don't know how to do this again," she said, 

 

"That's okay."

 

"No," she shook her head, "I mean, I really don't know how to do this. It's been a couple of years since the last time and I think I...I think I'm out of practice or something because Kane has all these ideas and questions and is freaking out and I'm..." She swallowed. "I'm just," tears welled in her eyes, and she didn't wipe them away.  

 

"You're handling it the best you can," he finished. 

 

She snorted.

 

"It doesn't matter how that looks, or if you think it's right or the best thing. What matters is how you're feeling right now, and that you let everyone else handle the other stuff right now."

 

But," she protested, "it's not about me, you know? It's about her but then...I don't know. I'm making this all about me and she's the one that might be...God," she let out a shaky breath, "I can't even say the word. How pathetic is that?"

 

"Not pathetic at all," he rubbed his thumb along her hand, and she laughed dryly. 

 

"You're just saying that because I'm about five seconds away from losing it." 

 

"It would be okay if you did," he clarified, "lose it, you know."

 

She looked at him for the first time and raised a brow. 

 

"I'm just saying, it would be understandable if you did."

 

"Yeah, because it would definitely help the situation."

 

"It might help you," he replied. 

 

"While that's a comforting thought..." She trailed off, and he wondered if she forgot what she was going to say or just didn't have the energy to continue with the statement. 

 

When she didn't say anything for a bit, he asked, "can I get you anything? Water. Crappy coffee from the cafeteria? Though Raven will probably be bringing the good stuff if you can wait," he crinkled his nose, "something super salty from one of the vending machines."

 

She shook her head. "I'm okay," she scoffed, "what a load of bullshit. I'm not, you know, okay. But you get what I mean."

 

"I do."

 

"I'm ashamed," she said.

 

"Of what?" He asked, keeping his voice clear of judgment. 

 

"That I can't handle it. That I'm...That I'm a total mess."

 

"I think that's pretty understandable. You can't be expected to have it all together right now. That's what I'm for, and Murphy, and everyone else. Hell, even Kane. You don't have to be the hero every single day."

 

"But I look _so good_ doing it." She was smiling just a little, at the dramatics of his words.

 

He found it in himself to offer a small laugh, which made her smile more. 

 

"Yeah, well, you make the rest of us look bad. Gotta give someone else a chance."

 

"I suppose you're not terrible at it," she said. 

 

"God, I hope so." After a minute, he turned serious and thought over what he wanted to say. She felt the shift and tilted her head to the side to look at him. "You know, when this first started happening, I didn't know how to be there for you, and I'd like to think that I do now, that I've trained for it or something like that, but every time it happens...God, I just want to fix it all immediately. But I know I can't," he ran a hand through his hair, "I want to make it all better so that you don't have to deal with any of this. Not just because no one should, because they shouldn't, you know? But you've already had to be strong through so much. I want you to not always have to be the toughest person I've ever met."

 

"You want me to be a little weakling huh?" Her words suggested a joke, but he could tell she had heard every word he'd said, and knew that he'd meant them. 

 

He decided to play along, "just on alternating Tuesdays."

 

"Oh, so I should be even more ready for disappointment and pain on those days?"

 

It was all fine, pretending they weren't where they were, and ignoring the why, but he knew that as much as it helped her, it also didn't. He knew her well enough that she'd dance around his words and brush them off like they weren't actually serious. It was difficult for her to admit she needed help sometimes, and while their relationship had been up and down in the last year, he still knew when she needed to be eased into accepting it. Even more challenging was her accepting her worth, whether that be in the form of letting herself falter, or just simply leaning on others for support. 

 

" _Clarke_ ," he said.

 

"I know. It's easier to joke though, isn't it?"

 

Her expression was more open than when they'd first started talking, which he took as a good sign. She didn't look as dazed or far-off anymore and seemed to be open at least hearing his words and doing her best to not pretend he was only saying it to be nice. 

 

He nodded. "It is." 

 

Perhaps the reason why he knew Clarke's go-to would be to give up trying to let herself crumble, even just a little, and let someone else bear her burdens with her was that he often felt the same, especially when he was growing up and raising O. As much as he loved all of his friends, and each one brought something special and amazing to his life, he knew none of them quite got one another like he and Clarke did. It was what could make talking to her both one of the most rewarding, and sometimes frustrating, experiences of his life. At that moment though, he didn't care how much she would push back or try and shut down what she was feeling, whatever she told him she needed or hell, just wanted, he would try and do that for her. 

 

"Well, it does mean a lot to me," she said, "that you believe that, or that you want it for me. I don't know if I ever will myself, mostly because of everything with my dad and how my mom and I just are but...Not many people have ever tried to let me just be whatever the hell I wanted."

 

"Not about me," he replied quickly, "And I said it because it's the truth."

 

At that, her faced warmed a bit and she ducked her head, her hair falling into her eyes. Their hands were still knit together. His palm was starting to ache a little from the lack of movement, but there was no way in hell he was going to break the contact. 

 

"Thank you, Bellamy."

 

He shrugged. "I'm sure it would've come better from Murphy, but I figured it'd be okay from me."

 

She snorted. "I don't know about that. Besides, Murphy...He doesn't have your way with words."

 

"You're saying he's more physical?" He joked.

 

She swatted him. "That's not what I meant."

 

There was something about her expression that gave him pause. Even though he was committed to ignoring what he'd said at her party, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he'd walked away too quickly last night. 

 

"What did you mean, then?" 

 

She struggled to get out anything coherent. "It's, well, um," but before she could finish what she was going to say, the voices of their friends were heard from down the hall. 

 

Murphy arrived with Lincoln, Octavia, and Jasper. Clarke went to stand up to greet them, but before she could, Jasper had barrelled into her and engulfed her in an impossibly tight hug.

 

"Alright, Jasper," Lincoln told him, "we don't need to give her a separate reason to be here."

 

Jasper pulled away, but when he did Clarke wrapped her arms around him for just another second. 

 

"Thank you," she said.

 

"Told you my hugs were legendary," he shot at Lincoln while Octavia and Clarke exchanged a brief hug. 

 

Lincoln offered her a small box. "Lemon bars," he explained. "From that place on Wilson you love."

 

"Thanks, Lincoln."

 

People arrived in quick succession after that. Monty and Harper showed up, the latter of whom was doing her best not to cry in sympathy, but Clarke promised her it was okay, she understood and gave her a tissue. Emori and Anya came bearing nothing, but surprisingly, Anya offered some of the kindest of condolences and told Clarke that her father would've been right by her side, and proud of her. Maya had promised to open the gallery and cover for as long as was needed. 

 

They got an update not long after, but it wasn't in too much detail. Just that Abby was alive, barely, and would be sedated for another couple of hours. They weren't allowed to see her yet. 

 

"Where the hell is Raven?" Murphy asked, turning to him.

 

He'd been so caught up in everything that had been going on, he'd forgotten that she'd promised to be there almost an hour ago. He took out his phone to send her a text, but before he could even start typing, Miller came over with a panicked expression on his face.

 

Emori sprang up from her place on the floor, startling Anya. "What's wrong?"

 

He blinked a few times and ran a hand over his face. 

 

"Jesus, what now?" Harper asked wearily. 

 

"That was Jackson," he said, holding up his phone. 

 

Bellamy frowned. "Is he on his way up?"

 

He shook his head. "No...It's Raven."

 

" _What?_ " Murphy asked, fear laced into his tone.  

 

"Yeah, apparently, well, I don't really know what exactly happened. She just got admitted with a head injury. Car accident. Apparently, some dick rammed into her car and—"

 

Miller didn't get to finish though, because Murphy and Clarke were already exchanging a seemingly silent conversation. Without hesitation, Clarke gave him a little nod, and then without a word to anyone else, and despite their exclaims of protest, he took off towards the stairs. 

* * *

As it turned out, car accidents really sucked shit. There was none of that cool slow-motion stuff either. Just panic and pain and a bunch of strangers calling her ma'am. She was only turning twenty-nine in a couple of months. Definitely not a ma'am. 

 

"Can you follow my finger?" A nurse asked as she checked Raven's eyes. 

 

She did as she was told, though she wanted to add that she felt absolutely fine, and there was really no reason for them to treat her as if she was going to fracture into a million pieces. 

 

The accident wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. They were pretty sure she had a concussion, but they had to confirm it. Other than that, it was just a few bruises and an ache in her right side. The guy had fallen asleep at the wheel and sent her forward. Luckily, neither one of them were injured severely. Well, except her car, which would definitely need at least a week in the shop for repairs. 

 

They were drawing some blood just to give a thorough check of everything when she heard shouting from the other side of the sheet that separated her from the rest of the emergency room. Distinctly, one voice, in particular, threatening everyone and their boss. 

 

"Sir, please, you can't go through there," a nurse was saying but Murphy had already pushed his way through and was shoving the sheet aside.

 

"I think I just did," he shot back. Turning to her, he asked, "are you okay?"

 

She barely had time to nod before he was at her side looking her over as if he had any kind of medical training. 

 

"And what do you think you're doing?" She asked, but she couldn't stop herself from grinning. 

 

He was _worried_ about her. God, she chastised herself, she was such a dork. 

 

"Sir, I'm going to call security if you do not leave immediately," the nurse warned. 

 

Murphy looked like he was going to say something that would probably just get him in even more trouble, so she clapped a hand over his mouth to stop him before he could. He shot her an unamused look, but she was smug with the victory of shutting him down.  

 

"It's okay," she said, "he's my friend. He's just..." She eyed him and smirked, " _really_ protective. Emotionally damaged by his father and all that."

 

The nurse didn't look like she believed Raven even a little, but in the end, she said he could stay as long as he promised he would be driving her home and listen to the signs he had to watch for the concussion or any possible internal bleeding. To his credit, he was rather attentive. Perhaps overly so, which made her have to suppress her giggles whenever he was clearly playing it up for dramatics. With a stern look, the nurse left to hand off Raven's blood to the lab and get her discharge papers. 

 

"You're welcome," she told him while picking at the bandaid that had been placed in the crook of her arm. 

 

He snorted. "For what? ' _Emotionally damaged_ ' really?"

 

"It worked, didn't it?"

 

He gave her an unimpressed look. 

 

"At least I'm not the one who almost got security called on them in a hospital."

 

"So you wouldn't have done the same for me?" He placed a hand across his chest. "And here I thought my friendship meant something to you."

 

It probably meant too much, she thought but squashed it right away. There was no point in thinking about stuff like that. Especially when Clarke was dealing with the whole Abby situation a couple of floors above them. 

 

"Shut up, you know I would," before she could stop herself, she added, "if you were in the hospital, I'd steal a car and jumpstart it to get there." 

 

He faltered for a second, taking in what she said. She was about to make a joke out of it, but he beat her to it. 

 

"You're just looking an excuse to show off you can jumpstart a car. Not to mention, you'd probably be the reason I was in the hospital in the first place."

 

She laughed because that's what the two of them did. They made oddly dedicated and impossible admissions. Then, just as quickly, they brushed them off like they were nothing with a teasing comment or stupid joke. Even though it wasn't everything, what she really wanted, it was enough, she knew. Just to have this weird friendship with him. 

 

"You know you can go back up to Clarke, right?"

 

He waved a hand. "Bellamy and everyone else has got it covered."

 

"Yeah but," she swallowed, "you're different."

 

He smirked. "Oh, I know. But I figure if they pool all of their mediocre-ness together, they might almost as great as me."

 

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant. You guys are, you know, well, I don't know exactly what but it's okay for you to go be with her. I'm fine, really."

 

"You kidding? You were in a car accident. I'm not bailing."

 

"Murphy, I'm serious—"

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he said, "we ended it last night, okay? And it's not that we had a big fight or anything like that. We just did it, like _mature adults_ ," she knew he couldn't help but exaggerate the last part and she held back a wince, "and we're still really close, but I want to be here for you, so just let me."

 

It took her a moment to be able to form a reply. "I'm sorry," she said, "that you guys broke up or whatever. I know...Look, I know it may come as a surprise, but I really was glad you two made one another happy. If you need anything, to talk or get drunk or whatever, I'm here for you, too."

 

"Thanks," he responded, "but, I don't know..." He shrugged. "It wasn't like that. Was it sad? Sure. But it felt like it was what was supposed to happen."

 

"You believe in fate now?"

 

He scoffed. "Hell no," and then a pause, "maybe a little."

 

"Oh, my god," she held back a laugh, "I can barely stand to hear it. John Murphy: Believer." 

 

"Shut up."

 

"You can't be mean to me, I have a concussion," she said, a little more gloating than it warranted. 

 

"That's exactly what I can do," he shot back, "means you won't remember any of it."

 

"For my caring, emotionally damaged friend, you're kind of a jerk."

 

"And don't you forget it."

 

They were still going at it when a different nurse walked in. This one was a little more amused by the two of them. Raven could tell by the little smile on his face as they bickered and Raven filled out paperwork about her insurance. 

 

It took another hour due to the busyness of the hospital, but once she promised not to drive, look for signs of possible symptoms of something they could've missed, and to come back in next week for a check-up, she was allowed to sign her discharge papers and head upstairs with Murphy. Before they left though, her nurse added that since she probably had a concussion, she had to be watched for the night to make sure there wasn't anything more serious. 

 

He looked the nurse right in the eye and said, "don't worry, I'll keep her up all night if I have to." She was going to kill him. 

 

She blushed and shoved him towards the elevator, glaring and sputtering curses at him, never finding a proper response.

 

Once they got to the waiting area where everyone else is, the tone between her and him changed considerably. Neither one of them felt like joking when they saw Clarke's face. She and Bellamy were seated together, with everyone else grouped around them. He was occasionally rubbing circles on her back. Jasper was reading the various pamphlets that had been left on one of the walls. Octavia was fidgeting so much that Lincoln had to reach out to stead her leg from bouncing. 

 

"You're okay?" Clarke breathed out when she saw her, relieved. 

 

Murphy had texted everyone while they'd been waiting for her discharge papers, but it seemed she hadn't quite believed it. 

 

She nodded. "Just a probable concussion and some bruises."

 

"That's good," Monty said and looked around, "Abby is stable. Clarke and Kane have already been in to see her, but she isn't awake yet. We've been trying to convince her she should go home and rest."

 

"I can't just leave," she protested. 

 

"Of course you can," Emori replied. "Abby is gonna be here for a couple of days, right? Maybe even a week while she detoxes? You can't stay here that entire time."

 

She frowned, and Raven knew that was exactly what she'd been planning to do. 

 

"I'll make you a deal," she walked over to where she was sitting, "you go home, I go home."

 

"That's different. I'm not-"

 

"You've been going through hell for hours." When the blonde didn't move, she took it a step further. "Fine," she plopped down into a chair and tried to hide her wince of pain. "Then I'm not leaving either."

 

Bellamy eyed her warily, but she felt that she knew what she was doing. 

 

"Raven," Clarke sighed. 

 

"Look, we both need rest. The fact that mine was prescribed by a doctor and a nurse doesn't mean a shit of difference to me. So, either we both go home and make this easier for everyone and ourselves, or neither one of us does."

 

For a second, she thought she was going to have to come up with a stronger argument, but Clarke looked at Murphy, who nodded in agreement. Then she turned to Bellamy.

 

"You think she's right, don't you?"

 

"If I thought staying here would help you, I would say so," he told her. 

 

She took another moment to decide, but after scanning the concerned faces of her friends, she agreed to go home, even if was only for a couple of hours. 

 

"Bellamy," Murphy said, "can you give Clarke a ride and stay with her? I gotta make sure this one," he jerked his chin at her, "doesn't have a traumatic brain injury. Well, aside from the one that makes her act like a know-it-all." 

 

She swatted at him but couldn't help her smile. 

 

Bellamy looked between Clarke and Murphy but didn't say a word and nodded. "Of course."

 

"Thanks," Clarke smiled at Bellamy. Then she turned to Murphy, "I trust the nurse told you what signs to look for?"

 

"Got 'em memorized."

 

They exchanged a quick hug and then she left with a still-confused looking Bellamy. Of course, she realized, he didn't know about Murphy and Clarke. She wondered how he would react. She wasn't quite sure how she felt yet. A weird combination of sadness for her friends and some kind of hope for her and Murphy. It felt strange and complicated and not at all something she could really think about with the fogginess of a head injury. 

 

He turned to her as they set off towards the elevator, "you ready for our sleepover? I hear I am amazing at making pillow forts."

 

And the little shit had the audacity to wink at her. 

* * *

Abby was going to be okay, she told herself as she fumbled with the key in the lock to the front door. Her mother was going to live. This time, at least. The thoughts kept coming in though, she couldn't stop them. Eventually, she stopped trying with the door and handed the key to Bellamy so he could unlock the door. 

 

He turned on one of the lights in the living room, but told her almost immediately, "I'll figure out food and stuff. You go get some sleep."

 

She started to protest, but he just steered her towards the stairs. Even though she wanted to fight, she couldn't deny how exhausted she felt. The past couple of hours had taken everything from her, and she needed to rest, as much as she didn't want to admit that she did. When she got to her bedroom, she slipped under the covers, still dressed in leggings and a t-shirt. Vaguely, she could make out Bellamy making small noises downstairs, probably trying his best to not be too loud. The thought of him poking around in the kitchen, of just being there for her was enough to comfort for her.  She pulled up the comforter and closed her eyes. After that, she drifted off almost immediately. 

 

It was a fitful, restless sleep. She woke often, but only for a few seconds at a time before she would pass out again. Eventually, she couldn't get back to sleep and checked her phone, startled to find she'd slept nearly the entire day. Her stomach growled. And that she was starving. She smoothed down her hair and went downstairs, following the smell of something deliciously greasy and cinnamon. In her kitchen, Bellamy was flipping pancakes. 

 

He looked up and smiled. "Thought you'd be hungry. I was trying to figure out how long I should wait before waking you, but I figured you might just smell the bacon."

 

"It worked," she replied, "though did you really make all of this just for us?" She laughed a little.

 

There was a plate heaping with bacon, a stack of pancakes, and no less than six fried eggs.

 

"Well, I didn't know how hungry you'd be, and I also know you have a thing for leftovers, so it wouldn't go to waste," he looked sheepish and she couldn't help but think it was adorable. "If it's too much, I'm sorry, I just—"

 

She interrupted him before he could spin out too much, "it's absolutely perfect. Thank you." 

 

They ate mostly in silence, though it was far from awkward, and then he did the dishes. She insisted on being in charge of putting the food into Tupperware because he couldn't do everything. Once they were done, Bellamy started wiping down the counter and mentioned that he'd messaged their friends that she had gotten to sleep, and Murphy reported that Raven had yet to start bleeding from her eyes, so really, perfect wins all around. The last part made her laugh. 

 

"I'm glad you have him, you know, not just for this, but just in general," he said.

 

It took her a moment to remember what had happened the previous night, but once she did, she realized that Bellamy had no idea that they'd ended things, and that the person she was most thankful to have at the moment wasn't Murphy, but him. 

 

"About that...It's over," she said as casually as she could manage. 

 

Bellamy almost choked on his water, and she had to hide her smile. 

 

"What? But I thought, I mean, it was going well, wasn't it?"

 

She wasn't sure where this conversation was headed, but she did know she wanted to have it. For both of their sakes, and because after everything she'd been through with Abby that day, she didn't want to hide something from the person that had been there for her. Maybe the one person that'd been able to get through to her by just telling her it was okay to fall apart a little. 

 

"I suppose, yeah, it was fine. But..." She searched for the right words. "But as much as we care about one another, and still do, it was never going to be anything serious. I think we both knew that from the start."

 

"I'm sorry," he replied.

 

"You are?" She asked, not being able to hide her hesitation, the little bit of surprise. 

 

"Of course, I am. I know I was a complete asshole about you two, but you were good to one another. Good for one another. And it always sucks when a relationship ends, no matter how serious it is."

 

It was what she'd needed from him from the start of her and Murphy's relationship. While it was coming at the end of it, she couldn't help but still be glad that he'd gotten there eventually. 

 

"Thank you, it...Well, I never thought I would hear anything like that from you. It means a lot," she finished, not quite sure what to make of it all. 

 

"I know you have a million things going on right now, but...." He took a breath, "I'm sure of how I feel about you. But that's not tied to what I want from you or for you. The only thing I care about is if you're with someone that makes you happy, and it seemed like Murphy did do that, in whatever way that might've been."

 

"He did," she replied, "he still does, except, you know, as just my friend now."

 

"That's good," he paused, "not good that you ended things, but—" 

 

She cut him off though, and argued, "it is good that we ended things though. I think..." She didn't know why or how sure she was, but she found herself saying, "I think it'll be better for everyone, in the end. That we'll be happier this way."

 

He swallowed thickly, and she wondered if he was catching on to what she was saying. 

 

She felt a lot of things at once. Perhaps a bit of sadness that yes, her relationship had ended, in some kind of way. But also relief that Bellamy seemed to have fully accepted the two of them. Without understanding how exactly, she just knew that she could trust him again. It was a combination of what he'd done for her that day and the making amends he'd been working towards for months along with the sentiment about her and Murphy. Things still weren't perfect, but she was sure. 

 

"Why is that?" His voice was quiet and full of hesitation. 

 

It was as if he was speaking to a secret that he hadn't known they'd even shared. Something sacred and impossible. The thought gave her the rush she needed to do what she wanted. She hadn't realized it, but she felt this had to have been her plan all along.

 

Without giving herself time to chicken-out, she gripped the countertop in one hand and stood up straight. She pulled him down slightly by placing her hand on the back of his neck. He moved cautiously—as if he was trying not to startle her. It felt right, for her to have control of this moment. Then they were face to face. His freckles made constellations on his cheeks, forehead, nose. She wanted to kiss each and every one. He was trembling a little bit, but so was she. 

 

"Clarke, you've been through a lot today. We don't—"

 

She grinned for a moment, fully and open and not at all afraid.

 

"Bellamy, I'm sure, okay? I want to. I want _you_ ," and then she closed the distance between their lips before he could say another word.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boom
> 
> check out my [tumblr](https://detectivebellamyblake.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	18. One Night to Speed Up Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, my dudes, we're finally gonna earn that rating. this chapter really wilded out, and it ended up being just bellarke that continues off from where we left off. it's basically all smut, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip this one. but if it is, I hope you enjoy you little monsters lmao 
> 
> thank you all again for the amazing support you've given me and this story. it never fails to make me smile and I'm so glad it's brought any kind of enjoyment to some of the most lovely readers out there. 
> 
> and here's [the playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=VgsaxOtvRXygSQPdfMbmHQ) for the fic that I recently made!!

Clarke didn't know what she'd been thinking, but she knew what she felt, and she had never felt something as right as kissing Bellamy. He took a second to fully respond, the smallest bit of hesitation making her nervous, but once he did, those worries were quickly forgotten.

 

Her mouth opened under the pressure of his and she chased the taste of the kiss with her tongue. She let go of her grip on the counter and buried her hand in his hair instead. As the kiss deepened, her nails scratched against his scalp and he made this soft little groan that nearly broke something inside of her. She twisted up so their bodies were more aligned, and he pulled her in close so they were pressed together. Her tank top had ridden up her back, and his hands touching her exposed skin sent sparks up and down her spine.

 

No matter where she put her hands, it wasn't enough, and eventually, she looped one around his neck and backed herself up against the counter. With a small grunt, he hoisted her up so she was sitting on it, and she dragged him into the space she'd made between her legs. They were as close as possible, and yet, it wasn't nearly enough. There were far too many clothes between them, so she moved her hand from his hair and slipped it underneath his shirt, feeling the planes of his stomach, and then his chest. The contact caused him to bite down on her lip, which elicited a moan from her. 

 

It would be a wonder if they'd ever be able to stop, she thought fleetingly, though it was quickly drowned out with the feel of having him so close, after believing that she never would. 

 

They did have to pause the kissing for a moment. If only to breathe. They broke apart without untangling themselves from one another. She pressed her forehead against his while she tried to steady her breathing. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she could feel his, and it was beating just as hard as hers, if not harder. She wanted to memorize the feel of it, the sound. The fact that it was for her made it all the more surreal. He swallowed thickly and seemed to be at a loss for words. She knew the feeling. 

 

To a bit of her disappointment, he chose then to be rational. He looked up at her and sighed, and though he didn't physically move away from her, she felt a distance open up between them. 

 

"I don't want to take advantage," he said, "you've been through hell today and the last thing I'd want is to hurt you or make you feel used. This is...Hell, this is amazing, but I don't want it to happen on impulse. So, if you just want to watch a movie or something, that's okay. More than okay."

 

He started to move his hands from around her, but she placed her own over top of his arms to stop him. At the sureness of her movement, his eyes went a little wide. Which was, fuck, pretty damn cute. She liked it though, that she could still surprise him. Neither one of them moved, but she licked her lips and he looked down at where her hands were still wrapped around his wrists. 

 

"You're not taking advantage."

 

"Clarke—" 

 

But she wasn't in the mood to argue. She was sure of what she wanted, of what they were doing. Maybe some part of her knew she might not have kissed him if it hadn't been for Abby, but it wasn't because of the stress or the pain. He had been there for her completely, with no expectations or hangups. When she'd been feeling as if she had to keep being strong, he had stayed by her side and told her he could be strong enough for both of them. No one had ever eased the burdens she'd faced like he could, and she knew that it was okay, that she was ready. 

 

Then, it hit her. Just because she was, didn't mean that he still wanted her. Sure, the kissing had been great, and he'd seemed pretty into it, but she couldn't stop the cloud of doubt that descended over her. Just because he wanted to kiss her didn't mean he wanted _her._

 

"Do you not want to?" She asked, her eyes scanning his. 

 

"I don't know how you can ask that. I mean," he looked genuinely confused, his brow furrowed so there was a little crease in his forehead, "aren't I painfully obvious?"

 

She blushed, a little satisfied that at least she hadn't interpreted that part _so_ wrong. 

 

"I thought you did but..." Shaking her head, she added, "just checking."

 

"I probably want it too much, honestly. Which is why I think...God, I don't know...I'm trying to be smart about this, but the way you're looking at me. You're not making this easy, you know?"

 

"Maybe it's not easy because it's wrong to try and stop this," she replied. "Maybe," she pulled him close enough to kiss and heard his breath hitch a little, "we're actually doing what is right, for once."

 

"Are you sure?" And she _felt_ the want radiating off of him, but it meant so much that he asked, that he really wanted to make sure that she wasn't doing this to dull the pain. That she was sure in trusting him. 

 

Instead of answering, she slanted her lips over his, and this time, he didn't stop them. 

 

When they parted so he could help her off the counter, she said, breathless, "this way," and lead him towards the stairs. 

 

They stumbled their way up, trying to maintain contact while also climbing their way up to the second floor. They paused halfway up to make out for a while and only stopped when the railing started digging into Bellamy's back so hard he gasped a little from the pain. She'd immediately started to apologize, but he'd looked at her like she was ridiculous and grabbed her hand to pull her the rest of the way up. 

 

"It's the one on the—" 

 

He crowded her against her door, his lips trailing down her neck, pausing to suck at her pulse point. His hands were on her ass and she was trying in vain to get his shirt off, but she kept not being able to make her hands move from tracing his stomach, his chest, his shoulders. It was overwhelming, the feel of his lips and hands and just _him. S_ he was pretty sure she was going to explode. 

 

"I remember where your room is, Clarke," he was laughing, but also sounded a little dazed. She wondered if he felt as she did, that they were in some strange, miraculous dream. If it was one, then she never wanted to wake up. 

 

Duh, stupid, she thought, as she registered his reply. He used to live here. But she couldn't really be blamed when she could barely even form a coherent thought with the way he was kissing her. His mouth was everywhere, but only for a moment at a time. Her neck and along her collarbone and across her cheeks and finally on her lips again. He had probably left a trail of bruises on her neck but she couldn't bring herself to care. Some part of her loved the thought of it, of waking up in the morning and seeing the evidence that this had been real, that he had touched her like this. 

 

She forced one of her hands to sneak out from underneath his shirt and open her door. They nearly tripped over themselves getting inside and he kicked it closed with his foot. 

 

Finally, she managed to get it together enough to actually get his shirt off, and then she started working on his belt. His hands went to her tank top before she could fully get it off, and she had to pause to raise her arms over her head to help him get it off. 

 

"You're fucking adorable, you know that?" 

 

"No way," she said, pushing him towards the bed, her hands going back to work on getting his jeans off, "I'm wild and sexy. Dangerously sexy."

 

"Uh-huh." He helped her get down to his boxers, still smirking, the little shit. 

 

She wanted to prove him wrong, but more than that, she was done waiting, was done dancing around everything she felt for him and wanted with him. She shoved him down onto the bed. He went to tug her down with him, but she dodged out of his grasp and reached behind her to unclip her bra. Tossing it aside, she bent down and did away with her leggings before she could let herself dwell on the fact that she was going to be almost completely naked. In front of _Bellamy._

 

She found some secret confidence within her and smirked down at him, where he was awestruck. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never seen him look at anyone like that. It made her flush, and she watched as he moved to the edge of the bed. He grasped his hands around her waist and pulled her down so they were both laid out. She gripped his shoulders and he went with the movement, moving to hover over her.

 

"What was that about me not being dangerously sexy?" She challenged as he continued to gaze at her like she was wonderous like she couldn't possibly be real. She was sure a similar expression was on her own face. 

 

"Well, you know, I'm an idiot."

 

She grinned, laughing a little, and he smiled back just as bright. 

 

Using one hand to keep himself from putting weight on her, he took the other and tucked a loose curl behind her hair. The movement was so tender, she would've laughed or made some stupid joke if anyone else but him had done it. But it _was_ him, and it felt so good, just to be near him like this. 

 

The kiss he gave her was surprisingly chaste, and soft, but only for a second. It turned hot and biting, a clash of teeth and desperation to fit their bodies around the other. Her hands buried themselves into his curls and tugged when he did something that particularly set her off. He moved from her mouth to her jaw, then so slowly down her neck she thought about yelling at him, but just as she was about to he went to her collarbone. When he took one of her nipples in his mouth, she bit down on her lip to keep herself from gasping. 

 

Using his tongue on her breast, she couldn't stop herself from gasping as he grazed her nipple with his teeth. The noises she made should've made her embarrassed, but she couldn't think straight enough to elicit the feeling. She still had one hand in his hair, and the other was holding onto his bicep, her nails practically curling into the skin. As he shifted to her other breast, she wondered if her grip was too much, and loosened it. He whined a little in protest, in the back of his throat, and she thought she felt it against her chest. Returning to her original hold on him, she felt that his hands were gripping her waist so goddamn tight. She hoped there would be a mark. 

 

He kept trailing his mouth down her body. She felt a little self-conscious when he reached her stomach, and he must've noticed her stiffen a little because he paused and looked up at her. 

 

"You okay?"

 

"Yeah," she waved a hand, "sorry...Sorry I was being stupid."

 

"Clarke, if you want to stop, we can."

 

"No," she rushed out, and then, "I just, um..." But she didn't have the courage to say the words. 

 

"You're the most beautiful person in the world to me."

 

"Yeah?" She asked, a little amazed. 

 

"Yes, Clarke, of course."

 

With that, her embarrassment and self-consciousness about her body was the furthest thing from her mind. 

 

"Okay," she nodded and grinned, "you can keep going now."

 

"So demanding," he murmured but brought lips to her skin once more. 

 

As he went lower down her body, she was forced to remove her hand from his arm, and when he reached a particularly sensitive spot, she reached out and gripped the sheets with her free hand. His hands traced along the backs of her thighs, raising them up and rubbing patterns she couldn't decipher with fingertips.  While his mouth traced the indents of her hips, she did her best to control the urgency of her want, but she could feel it building and wondered if he did too. He pressed his mouth to her inner thigh, dangerously close to the spot she needed him so much. Her hips moved without even thinking about it, shifting a little, searching for friction that wasn't there. 

 

"You getting worked up with just my mouth? Do you want it somewhere else?" He asked against her skin and though her eyes were closed, she could almost see the smirk that had formed on his lips. 

 

So fucking slowly she thought she was going to lose it, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down, tossing them somewhere she didn't see or care about. If she never saw them again, it would be too soon. 

 

"Fuck," he said, taking in her in. 

 

They met eyes as he sat back on his heels and scanned her body, spread out before him. He ran his hands along her skin, and she had to check just to make sure he hadn't actually left scorch marks. Taking his time, he seemed to be memorizing every inch of her, but she didn't have time for that. Not when she needed him, whatever part she could get. 

 

"Bellamy..." she panted, her chest rising and falling with the effort of maintaining any kind of allusion of control. 

 

He wasn't going to just let her have it though, she could tell by the way he chewed on his lip and his eyes got this mischievous gleam. 

 

"You sure you want me to? I don't know if you do," he was grinning, the asshole. 

 

He lowered back down to press open-mouthed kisses to everywhere but where she needed him most. There was no hiding how much she wanted him. She kept trying to squeeze her thighs together, but he used his hands to keep them apart. 

 

"Gotta tell me," and while his tone was mocking, it fluttered a little, revealing how much he wanted this too, "use your words, Clarke." 

 

Even though she felt borderline murderous that he wasn't giving her what she craved, she knew she loved the teasing. And he did, too. 

 

" _Yes_ ," she gasped out, "god, I swear if you don't I'm going to—"

 

She didn't have to come up with something that she was going to do though because it seemed he wasn't able to hold off with the teasing any longer either. He cut off her words and any kind of idea of thought by putting his mouth on her. For a moment, she was so spaced out with want, she wasn’t sure that she fully felt it, but once she did...It should've been _illegal_ , what he was doing to her. 

 

If she was honest with herself, she had thought about it before, what it would be like with him. The reality destroyed any kind of fantasy she had ever built up. He knew what he was doing, and not only that, was so attentive to her wants and what felt best. She only had to moan a certain way or grind up her hips a little, or stiffen if it didn’t feel the best, and he would work her in just the way she needed. 

 

When his tongue swept across her clit and she cried out, he placed his arm across her waist to steady her. 

 

“You’re so good. You’re the best goddamn thing,” he told her, and she felt herself flush all over. 

 

He kept working her, making moans escape her mouth no matter how hard she tried to quiet them. Then he added a finger, twisting and hitting her where his tongue couldn’t. At the same time he sucked on her clit, he added another finger and hooked them both inside her. If he hadn’t been holding her down, her whole body would’ve jerked. Her eyes squeezed shut and she was finding it hard to breathe or think or do anything but hone in on just how amazing it felt. 

 

“There,” she was able to get out, “oh, my god, right there.” 

 

Some part of her recognized that she was pleading with him, repeating “please” and “fuck” and incoherent noises that definitely weren’t words.

 

“Not yet,” and he made good on his promise. 

 

He didn’t commit to the spot, not like how she wanted him to, at least. Instead, he continued to build her up, only to bring her back down again. She would be stuttering out nonsense, telling him to let her let go, but he didn’t, even when she begged for it.

 

It seemed he had a plan for this though, and she wouldn’t be disrupting it. Not that she was complaining at all, really, but as she chased her release she knew that he must’ve been getting worked up too. She wanted to give this to him, too. To do everything with him. 

 

“Let me come. Let me make you feel good too.” 

 

It was the second part that seemed to convince him. After she said it, he made a desperate noise in the back of his throat. 

 

“Please, I want you inside me, I want all of you,” she said, because now that she knew she had him, she was going to make sure he let her give him what he was to her. 

 

He did let go then, of his desire to keep her going and draw it out so long she didn’t know how it was possible. It took him a moment, but he got back to the spot that had made her lose any kind of control she’d had left. As he worked her up, she knew this time she’d finally have her release, and the anticipation made her crave it so much more. 

 

“I’m there, oh god,” she moaned and he licked her up and down while letting his fingers bring her closer to what she needed. 

 

She broke apart with his tongue on her nerves and his name on her lips. He helped her through it, soothing her and providing soft touches of his lips to her hips and thighs. His chin was a little wet, and she blushed when he wiped it across his hand. 

 

Sitting up on her elbows, she said, “come here.”

 

He crawled back up to her, placing the softest of kisses on her stomach, then her breasts, and finally her cheek as he did so. 

 

It took her a moment to find her breath. 

 

“So, um, that was good, right?” He asked.

 

She was enamored with the little bit of self-consciousness in his tone, and shook her head.

 

“Bellamy,” taking in a breath, she said, “you did hear and feel how completely amazing that was for me, right?”

 

“Well,” he said as he played with her fanned out hair, “just checking.”

 

Her words from earlier echoed back to her made her feel embarrassingly tender, enough to make her press a kiss to his shoulder to avoid him seeing how much it impacted her. She moved her mouth to his neck, trailing kisses until and letting her hand drift down his chest until it reached the hem of his boxers. He helped her get his off without the fan fair that he did with hers, thankfully. She would’ve made a complaint if she didn’t want him so bad. 

 

They exchanged messy kisses for a while until their movements became more and more frantic. 

 

“Condom?” He asked, and she nodded, taking a moment to get one out of her nightstand. 

 

She tried not to be too obvious about watching as he slid it on, but he caught her chewing on her lip and got such a please expression on his face, she dragged him down on top of her just to surprise him. 

 

“I want you like this,” she commanded. 

 

“Bossy,” he replied, but he was grinning so much it sounded like a compliment. 

 

He settled down in between her legs and kissed her hungrily. She felt how hard he was, how much he wanted her, and it sent a thrill through her. But he’d been so good to her while craving his own pleasure at the same time, and she wasn’t interested in delaying it anymore. She gripped onto his shoulders and pulled him close, arching up her hips to grind against his. They both moaned at the contact. With one hand, he took on of hers and linked their fingers, then pinned the hand above her head. She stretched out beneath him, hoping to line up their bodies in any way that she could. His other hand came around and lifted her leg until it was wrapped around his torso, and he let her have a moment to get comfortable in the new position. Once she was, she nodded and kissed him, and foreheads touched as he slid her into her for the first time. 

 

Bellamy’s muscles flexed underneath her hands with each thrust, each one driving home deeper. 

 

“Shit, you feel so good,” he told her and god, she believed him, if only because he felt absolutely amazing. “So fucking tight, though, am I hurting you?”

 

While she felt so full of him, he had worked her up so well before it had only taken a moment for her to adjust to the size of his cock. She met his thrusts with ones of her own to reassure him. 

 

“No,” she panted, “god, no, keep going. Harder, though, you can go harder. Please.” 

 

He did as she asked, making them that much closer, and she thought she heard her bed squeak a little beneath them but she didn’t give a damn about anything that was happening outside of the two of them. The world could’ve been ending outside, and she wouldn’t have cared. Hell, probably wouldn’t have even noticed. 

 

“Like that?” He asked, and yeah, the bed definitely groaned when he moved, this time at a slightly different angle that made her breath hitch with the pleasure it brought. 

 

She didn’t think she could form a full thought but managed a, “yes, just like that.”

 

He buried his face into the crook of her neck and moaned out sweet nothings. Just whispers of how good she was and that he’d never had someone so hot and perfect. They were everything she loved to hear, as if he knew just what she needed. In turn, she buried her nails in deep, which she knew would probably leave a mark. A possessive, secret part of her loved the idea, even if no one actually ever saw them. She would. More importantly, _he_ would. See them and feel them and know that it was her that had put them there. 

 

God, she couldn’t believe that they were here though, that they were actually doing this. It seemed too good to be true. 

 

Clarke didn’t realize she had said it aloud until Bellamy gasped, “I know, fuck I never thought...This is the best thing, you’re the best thing, to have ever happened to me.”

 

He did indeed sound amazed, well, as amazed as one could while also having sex. She was glad he couldn’t see the dorky smile she got on her face at his words. Even though she didn’t think she’d ever be in this place with Bellamy, she was so glad she was, so fucking happy she didn’t know what to do with it. 

 

So, she put it all into the moment, into feeling every inch of him that she could. She met his movements as best as she could with her own, and mapped out his body with her hands, creating a path of her love, and she forgot she hadn’t yet said the actual words. 

 

When she felt comfortable enough to do it, she hiked up her leg even further, deepening his thrusts. The first one in the position brought a moan from the back of his throat that made her sense buzz. It set her off like a live wire, and it seemed they both were, frantically searching for a way to get closer, closer, closer, though they already were as close as two people could be, and not just physically. 

 

He might’ve believed that she was the best thing to have happened to him, but she knew he was for her too. She didn’t want to know who she was without him, and the fact that she didn’t have to seemed a minor miracle. Even after all they’d been through, she _knew._ There would never be anyone quite like him ever. 

 

They went off the edge, tumbling, messily, one after the other. 

 

She went first, tangling her hands deep in his curls and barely being able to breath and feeling the way the pleasure moved through her in waves. Her legs threatened to give out but he brought a hand to support her, keeping the other linked above their heads, and she pressed her body flush against his. 

 

He came a half a dozen thrusts after, saying her name over and over so quietly she almost didn’t hear it over the sound of them moving together. It was whispered into her neck, like a secret that neither one of them were ready to confront. But she knew he loved her, knew he was in love with her, and this, them together, seemed to her the most inevitable thing that had happened in her life since she met him. 

 

It took a moment for them to both come down from their highs, and for a while, all that disrupted the night was the sound of their breathing. He untangled their limbs with a gentleness that she craved, and so even though there was a sheen coat of sweat on both their bodies, she curled into his side almost immediately after he laid down beside her. He brought an arm around her waist, pulling her in. The smell of the two of them seemed to hang in the air. _It would be on her sheets too,_ she thought, with some kind of inane joy. 

 

Using the lightest touch of her fingertips, she traced stars into his skin, following the pattern of his freckles. She had always loved them so much. Had always loved him so much, really. The weight of her not saying the words hung over her, though she didn’t know if it did for him. Though she tried to block it out, he must’ve felt the shift from complete comfort to a mess of nerves. 

 

“Clarke?” He asked, and she looked up at him. 

 

He was studying her face intently. “We’re okay, right? I know that was, shit, that was so much, it was everything. I mean, for me it was, I don’t know what it was for you but if you’re feeling nervous or worried...I just,” he was nervous but she could tell he was working to remain calm, to soothe her concerns if they were there, “you can talk to me about anything. Including this.”

 

It took her a moment for her to realize what he meant: he thought she regretted what they’d done.

 

“Oh, Bellamy, no...I…” She swallowed. “This was everything for me, too…” She took a second to find the right words and she saw he allowed himself to smile, just a bit at her admission, “it’s me, okay? I...I guess a part of me is so overwhelmed, and it’s not because of anything you did...God, this is so not a sexy post-boning conversation.”

 

“I heard those are overrated,” he replied, without missing a beat. 

 

She laughed a little. “I just...Can you be patient with me?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, god, yes, I can be patient.”

 

“Okay,” she breathed out, and while she still felt nervous, she also knew she could count on him. 

 

She let herself nestle in even closer to him, and felt him press his lips against her forehead as she drifted off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was kind of insane for me to write, but I hope you liked it haha! next chapter will focus heavily on murven and move those two disasters along, and we also set off on a mini-vacation. 
> 
> check out my [fresh new writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	19. Figure Your Heart Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, after that last chapter, we're back to our regularly scheduled programming lmao. this one is pretty heavy on the murven development, as I think the last two or so have been focused more on bellarke. there are still some moments though, you just gotta squint a little. this one takes the gang on a whirlwind trip that was really fun to write, as it was almost based on a vacation I took!
> 
> as always, your kind words, kudos, and any kind of feedback or response to this fic mean absolutely everything to me. I love everything y'all have to say, and it truly makes my day when I hear I brought anyone some kind of enjoyment from my work. thank you will never be enough, but I'll still say it anyway.

Was it really the best idea for them to accept Kane's offer for an all-expenses-paid trip to Mexico for a week? Probably not. Were they going to take him up on it anyway? You bet. 

 

He was surprised that the guy was willing to shell out that kind of money, but apparently, he was insisting. 

 

Once Abby was conscious, and a new rehab program was picked out for her, Clarke spent some time with her mother. She didn’t even tell the rest of them that she had woken up until she called them and asked to meet at her place. Murphy didn’t want to intrude on what she’d said while there, and figured she’d talk about it when she was ready. He was just glad Bellamy had been there with her. 

 

“Because of my mother’s past as a Senator, the media will be all over this. They’ll show up at the house, the hospital, whatever access they can get. Maybe even my job at the gallery. We’re lucky that Kane was able to keep quiet about it for as long as he did,” she explained to him and the rest of their friends while Harper and Bellamy made everyone tea the next day. 

 

Murphy didn’t point out that Bellamy was wearing the same clothes as he had been the last time he’d seen him. 

 

“That’s why Kane says it’ll be good for her to get away, for at least a week,” Bellamy said as he and Harper walked in from the kitchen with the mugs. 

 

No one really wanted or needed the tea except Clarke, but they all knew she wouldn’t have accepted it if everyone didn’t say they wanted some, too. God, sometimes being her friend was fucking exhausting, the way she put everyone else before her. Luckily enough, they had a small army of friends that were willing to do whatever necessary for her. Knowing what little he did about Anya, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that death was even on the table. 

 

“Are you sure you want _all_ of us to come with you?” Raven asked. “Not that I want to pass up a free trip to Mexico, believe me, but…” She looked at Monty, who nodded. “The last thing we want to do is smother you, or not give you your space. We just want to be there however we can, but we also know that sometimes the best way to do that is to cool it. Maybe it would be better if only a couple of people went.” 

 

Murphy didn’t know who would be in that group, though. He was a good bet, and given how Bellamy was acting, probably him, too, and hell, then you might as well throw Raven into the mix. What a strange collection of love triangles they’d become. 

 

“I was actually the one that came up with you all coming with me.” Clarke seemed a little lost in thought for a moment but after a moment she shook her head and returned to them, and it seemed, the present. “I can’t go all alone, it would be...I don’t know, just not helpful? Kane thought it could be cathartic, but to me it just sounds painfully lonely. Besides, we haven’t done a vacation all of us together since college. And I think it’ll be fun, right?”

 

“Oh hell yeah! Best thing ever!” Jasper practically yelled, and then, realizing what he’d said, backtracked, “not that, you know your mom overdosing is the best thing ever. I meant the vacation, you know. Cause I’ve never been to Mexico and like you said, it’s been forever since we all took a trip together and, god, Clarke, I didn’t mean it like that I swear and—”

 

She burst out laughing, which made Bellamy let out a breath Murphy hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. 

 

“It’s okay, Jasper. I get it.”

 

He looked relieved, but it took Monty clapping him on the back for him to fully calm down from his spiral of worry. 

 

“Alright, that settles it,” Octavia grinned, “Mexico, here we come!”

 

Originally, they all planned to go, and though most of them had to shell out half of their vacation days to do it, they knew they had to do it for Clarke. After all, they knew she would do it, and more, for them. 

 

In the end though, Maya couldn’t come, which majorly bummed out Jasper, but it was the only way Clarke could miss an entire week of work. Everyone had liked her before Abby’s overdose, but her membership as One of the Group was solidified when she volunteered to go in as much as she had to in order to make sure they could spend time at the hospital and go on the trip. Anya had meetings all week with some artists about organizing a fellowship trip. Emori had done her best to appear excited when Jasper assured her that he would be her co-pilot as they flew solo together. Murphy himself got a lot of shit from the manager at the restaurant, but he was thinking about leaving anyways, and told her as much. She decided to let him go, though he hadn’t expected the threat to actually work. 

 

Once they were through the airport security and gathered around their gate, they figured out where they’d be sitting. Kane had just bought them rows that were all next to one another. While he’d set them up good, they were still flying coach. 

 

“First class too much to ask for?” He grumbled.

 

Raven shot him a smirk. “Like they’d let you in even if you had a ticket.” 

 

At that, he reached over and pinched her side, just a little. She batted his hand away and shot a, “fuck you,” at him before she went off with Clarke in search of coffee and provisions for the flight. 

 

Things had been different since the night of her accident. They’d nearly pulled an all-nighter together, just binging shows they were behind on and Murphy tried to make something edible from what her and Bellamy had in their pantry. 

 

“You think they’re boning?” She’d asked. 

 

He’d snorted. “They’re too lame. I bet cuddling.”

 

“ _Platonic_ cuddling,” she’d corrected. 

 

They ended up passing out around five or six in the morning, Raven’s feet in his lap and about a million pillows around her because she said her head was bothering her a little. He’d checked her eyes, and he was pretty sure she didn’t have a concussion, so he let her drift off to sleep. He tried to stay up, but eventually, he did, too. 

 

When they woke up in the morning, they were curled around one another. She was tucked into his side and he tried not to think about how she got there. He had a semi-hard on, and he actually stammered, more than a little mortified. But she just joked that she hadn’t known he was actually a thirteen-year-old boy and they’d gotten breakfast at her favorite greasy dinner. 

 

“Anyone else feel like we’re in high school and going on a field trip?” Lincoln asked while Octavia stared down an old lady, trying to intimidate her into giving her access to the outlet that connected their seats. 

 

“Oh, definitely,” Monty replied. 

 

“Just without the adult supervision,” Harper poked Monty playfully, and he blushed a little. 

 

“Isn’t it the best?” Jasper was practically jumping up and down. 

 

God, it was going to be quite the week. 

 

When Clarke and Raven returned, both with some of the biggest coffees he thought were made, he just shook his head.

 

“With all that caffeine i'm going to have a heart attack just by looking at you,” Bellamy told them. 

 

“Sucks for you then,” Raven said, “cause you’re next to Clarke.”

 

“Don’t worry, before I realized I’d made a huge mistake and hated medicine and didn’t want to save lives for a living, I went to med school,” she assured him, patting him lightly on the chest. 

 

“You two are gonna crash and burn when you finish that,” when they both shrugged, Murphy went on, “just checking.”

 

“Well, good luck,” Clarke smirked. “Raven already claimed you as her victim for the next four hours.” 

 

He couldn’t help it, he smiled, which then of course he followed up with, “glad to know if you have to torture someone, at least I’m your first choice.”

 

“Duh,” she shot back and rolled her eyes, as if it should’ve been obvious that she didn’t want to sit with anyone except him. 

 

“But if I’m gonna have to deal with you, I call window seat.”

 

She nodded after a moment. “Fair enough.”

 

Lincoln offered to be in their row too, and Octavia insisted on being in Bellamy and Clarke’s. She wiggled her eyebrows and then flung her arms over both of their shoulders, singing the ‘Three Best Friends’ song from _The Hangover._ Unlike him and Raven, she wasn’t exactly being subtle about the small changes in their dynamic since they’d left the hospital together. 

 

There was nothing too obvious, though he was sure that was on purpose. Just lingering touches and sickly soft smiles that made him want to gag. Whereas before they only looked at one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking, or anyone else for that matter, they now let their eyes drift towards one another as if it was suddenly allowed, and when they made eye contact one of them would do something disgusting like grin and look away quickly. It was all very sweet, but he hoped to hell he would never be like that with someone. It just...Wouldn’t feel right to him, not like him. And he was pretty sure the person he wanted felt the same way. 

 

After the night at her place, he’d been thinking about it more and more, and he knew, he had to make a move on Raven soon. If he didn’t, she might move on and meet someone else, and then, where would that land him? In the exact same position he’d been so many months ago. No, as much as he was nervous about it, as much as he knew she’d been resisting it for a long time and that they still had shit to work out, and as much as it might be a huge disaster, he had to do _something._

 

But he couldn’t focus on that right now, not when Clarke needed all the support she could get, even if she wouldn’t say it. As much as the trip was about them having fun as a group, it was more important that they were there for her, that they tried to keep her mind off the fact that her mother’s overdose was all over the news. She wouldn’t outright ask for help, but they’d all decided without speaking about it that they needed to provide it if they could. 

 

“Try not to flirt so much I throw up,” Lincoln shot at him and Raven before he slid on his headphones and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. 

 

The two of them giggled and jostled one another, like they were children. They tried to restrain themselves, but it didn’t really work. She made fun of him when he complained about his ears popping, and he flicked her ear everytime she tried to read from her book about the first moonwalk. Seriously, who even read books about that?

 

From the airport, it was an hour drive to the house that was along the coast. Clarke and Lincoln and Miller would drive, and they divided up. Again, Raven insisted on being with him. He tried his best to not be a complete dork about it. 

 

He ended up in a car with her, Clarke, Bellamy, and Jasper. Miller and Jackson got one to themselves while Emori was stuck with Octavia, Lincoln, Monty, and Harper. 

 

He would’ve felt bad for Jasper being with the rest of them, had he not pointed out every single sign or tree they passed with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. 

 

“I swear to god, if you stick that finger in my face one more time, you’re gonna lose it,” he told the other, who pouted and pretended to be genuinely hurt. 

 

“Oh come on, Murphy,” Bellamy grinned, “you aren’t excited?”

 

“Maybe he needs some music!” Clarke exclaimed.

 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Bellamy trailed off. 

 

“We could take turns picking songs,” Raven pointed out, but she shook her head.

 

“Driver’s choice.”

 

“But your music is so...Well, we just want to appreciate it fully,” Bellamy said.

 

“Haha,” her tone was dry, “I don’t care that you guys don’t like it because I love it enough for all of us put together.” 

 

And then she began blaring something hellish from the car speaker. 

 

Murphy, who was in the middle of the backseat, threw his head onto Raven’s shoulder.

 

“Can I kill her?”

 

She snorted. “She’s driving, so unless you wanna die too, probably not.”

 

“Well,” he went on, “in this fantasy you would jump into action and drive us safely the rest of the way. Without making my ears bleed.”

 

“Oh, well, in that case, yeah. Go for it.”

 

He groaned as Clarke changed the song to something even more heinous that sounded suspiciously like techno and she patted his head, and he definitely left it there longer than was strictly friendly. 

 

While he’d expected Kane would set them up good, he had no idea how much. 

 

The house was more like a mansion, which meant that they didn’t even have to share rooms, except for the designated couples. Which apparently did not include Clarke and Bellamy. He made a mental note to ask her what was going on there, if she wanted to discuss it, after she had some tequila in her. While he could easily make his assumptions, and he didn’t want to impose, he knew she’d go towards avoiding it, and that wouldn’t help anyone. 

 

The rooms were just the beginning, though. 

 

There was a swimming pool out back, a hot tub, access to tennis courts, and a path that led them on one of the most beautiful five minute walks he’d ever been on to the beach. Each room was decorated with colorful bedspreads and appeared to have its own mish-moshed color scheme. There were gorgeously painted tiles and terra-cota all around the house, and arches throughout. 

 

They had truly been dropped from the winter of Arkadia into some kind of paradise. Murphy had never put much stock in words like that, but there was no other one that even came close to describing their surroundings. 

 

“This place is fucking amazing!” Jasper shrieked from outside by the pool. 

 

“And there goes my hearing,” Harper mused as she watched her boyfriend and his best friend jostle around. 

 

“I’ll be shocked if it’s still standing at the end of the week,” Emori commented, dodging out of the two’s path of chaos. 

 

They were like little kids, but really, he couldn’t blame them. A part of him knew that they deserved to have fun, to let loose and just enjoy being together. He eyed Clarke and she nodded back at him. Maybe she was feeling it quite yet, but he would help her. They all would, noticing how she teased Bellamy for the crease between his brows as they watched Jasper and Monty dance around the pool. 

 

“They’re fine, worry wort,” she told him.

 

He pointed to where Jasper had nearly collided with the tile that detailed the outskirts of the pool.

 

“They’re gonna split their heads open.”

 

“Please,” Clarke shot back, “the worst that’ll happen is they’ll-”

 

And at that moment, Monty let out a very loud, “oh, shit!” while Jasper made something that resembled a squeak, and they both tumbled into the pool. 

 

Jasper emerged first, shaking his hair out and standing near the less deep end. Monty did a second later and dunked the other’s head under water. 

 

“Monty’s trying to drown me!” He exclaimed. 

 

“You kind of deserve it,” Clarke replied with a grin. 

 

“You’re lucky it wasn’t near the steps and you didn’t die,” was all Bellamy added. 

 

Clarke shoved him with her hip and he shook his head, letting himself smile just a bit. 

 

“Oh, come on, lighten up a little.” Harper, despite the fact that she may have been dating an eleven-year-old, seemed entirely entertained by the situation. 

 

She bent over by the edge of the pool to bend over near Monty, but it was a fatal error. Instead of giving her the brief kiss she expected, he grabbed one of her hands and pulled her into the pool with him. 

 

“Now I’m gonna drown you!” She shouted, and was giggling as she and Jasper swam after Monty into the deep end. 

 

Miller nearly did a belly-flop that brought tears to Murphy’s eyes and Jackson was so busy asking if he was okay that he didn’t notice Clarke sneak up behind him and shove him until it was too late. 

 

“Fuck it,” Octavia said, and she jumped in too, fully clothed. She popped up a second later, “Lincoln if you don’t get in right now, I won’t sleep with you for a week.” 

 

Reluctantly, he took off his shirt and jeans and went in after her. 

 

“Pool Party!” Jasper yelled, and at that, Murphy really thought about how he’d made his friends and how he’d let himself get into this situation. 

 

Emori shrugged and got down to her bra and underwear. Then she did a swan dive off the diving board. Everyone agreed it was a ten-out-of-ten. 

 

“Come on,” Clarke said, grabbing Bellamy’s hand and pulling him towards the water. 

 

“No way,” he dug his heels in.

 

She released him. “Fine,” and then she stripped off her t-shirt and threw it at his face. 

 

Really, Murphy wasn’t at all surprised that when they jumped in together, they were holding hands. What dorks. 

 

Raven took a moment to undo her brace, and he waited for her. 

 

Waving towards the pool, “after you, m’lady.”

 

She pushed him in. Then she nearly cannonballed on top of him. 

 

“Oh, I suppose this’ll do,” he said, and squirted a stream of water right at Raven’s face. 

 

She tried to curse him out, but she was too busy laughing. 

Raven wanted to ask Murphy out in Mexico, but she also didn’t want to make it about them, about her, when they were supposed to be there for Clarke. Sure, her and Murphy were broken up, but they _just_ had, and Abby was barely out of the hospital. As much as she wanted to act on what she thought could be great for both of them, she felt she couldn’t. 

 

The first two days in Mexico involved a lot of drinking, swimming, and for the first time in a while, their group feeling completely at ease. Even Bellamy and Murphy seemed to be getting along much better, though really, the only problem between them had been eliminated. Still, it felt good to have everyone joking around and screwing with one another without any hidden agendas behind it. 

 

Murphy and Clarke’s breakup was common knowledge by the end of the first day, and the one who looked most relieved about it was Jasper. 

 

“I’ve been talking about you guys in therapy a lot. I think it’ll be nice to get back to me,” which everyone laughed at. 

 

She did notice that Bellamy didn’t look surprised in the least, but then again, neither had she. 

 

Of course, they were all still on some kind of alert incase Clarke unexpectedly lost it, but everyone cooled it after she told them all off a little. 

 

She’d set down Harper’s margarita glass with a bit too much force and crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m not planning on exploding any time soon. Hell, you’ve seen me go through this before, so can you call off the bomb squad and just enjoy the damn drinks I’m making you?”

 

Everyone had agreed to do their best, and Bellamy had raised his hands in defeat. While they were all worried about her, they understood what this vacation was for: to help her escape it. So, it was the least they could do to try and give her that, even if they wanted to smother her in blankets and chocolate and make her sleep three hundred hours. 

 

Since she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in that, everyone dove into excursions and activities to keep both her and them busy. Raven was sure that Clarke had picked up that this was just another tactic in being over-protective, but it was one that came with visiting Mayan and Incan ruins, so she was okay with it. 

 

On their third day, they were visiting Tulum, a collection of ruins that looked out onto a brilliant bright blue sea. Monty and Jasper were taking as many pictures as they could, while Octavia had roped Bellamy into photographing her and Lincoln no less than fifteen times. 

 

It was while Jasper and Monty were attempting to hoist Octavia in the air that Clarke came over to Raven. 

 

“God, we’re lucky this is all outside. We’d definitely get kicked out.”

 

“Still might,” she snorted, and the blonde laughed. 

 

“It’s beautiful though, I mean,” Clarke shook her head, “I’ve never seen the sea look like that before.”

 

Raven nodded. “I know. It looks like it was photoshopped or something. Honestly, these past few days, I keep waiting to realize we’re all trapped in some simulation.”

 

She grinned. “Aren’t we?”

 

That made her scoff. “Yeah, yeah, you can keep your The Sims theory to yourself. Bellamy already told me you explained it the first time he got high and that he’s never been the same since.”

 

“Really?” She asked. “Didn’t realize it had that much of an impact.”

 

“Please,” Raven said. When she didn’t go on, Clarke arched a brow, and she added, “like everything you do doesn’t have an impact.”

 

For a second, she waved it off, but she wouldn’t let it go that easy. 

 

“I’m serious, you sneeze and his world threatens to implode.”

 

At that, they stared at one another for a moment, considering the ridiculous of the statement, but also, she suspected, the fact that they both knew it was the truth. So they started laughing and couldn’t stop.

 

Not until Clarke wiped at her eyes and asked, rather bluntly, “so, are you gonna make a move on Murphy or what?”

 

Raven could only blink in response. 

 

She gave her an unimpressed look. “Come on, you think I didn’t notice how you definitely already knew about us? And the way you look at the guy...Seriously, Raven.” She was smiling though, which stopped her heart from plummeting into her stomach. 

 

“Am I that obvious?” And she shifted her feet, suddenly feeling claustrophobic even though they couldn’t be in a more gorgeous outside area. 

 

“Just to someone that knows what pining looks like,” she replied, “surprisingly, I don’t know how much Murphy knows.”

 

“You haven’t told him?” She wasn’t surprised, but rather, just grateful. 

 

She shook her head slightly. “Nope. Mainly because it isn’t my business, not when I have my own shit to deal with,” she paused for a moment, thinking something over, “but also because, fuck, _Raven,_ I thought you would’ve done something about it by now.”

 

“I didn’t want to, I mean, I didn’t know it was okay to, you know...The two of you just ended things and I wouldn’t want to impose or—” But Clarke cut her off with a laugh. 

 

“Trust me, there is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t, but especially not _me._ ”

 

“I know, but it still feels wrong, and I,” she swallowed, “you’re my friend. I give a lot of shits about you, okay? And the last thing I want is to screw us up because of a guy,” she rolled her eyes, “again.”

 

Clarke seemed to debate something for a moment before she looked over at their friends. They were now trying to form some kind of pyramid shape, which looked both idiotic and dangerous, but it provided enough distraction that she felt comfortable saying whatever it is she wanted. 

 

“Alright, I’m going to tell you something that I haven’t told anyone. Not even Murphy,” at that Raven knew her eyes went a little wide, and Clarke bit her cheek to stop herself from laughing, “me and Bellamy,” she looked over to where he was on his hands and knees, holding up Harper, “we had sex. Like, _good_ sex. And I don’t really know what we are yet or how to deal with it and I’m...God, I’m kind of a mess about it. But I know what I want. Who, I want. And it isn’t Murphy. Not like that, at least, not anymore, okay? So please, for all of our sakes, do something before the poor guy loses it trying to figure out a way to make you realize his flirting is serious.”

 

Her words threw her off for a moment and it took a bit for her to react. “Congrats on the sex,” she said, because, like she’d told her, it’d been good. 

 

Clarke laughed. “That it?”

 

Raven chewed on her lip. “And you’re right...I’m gonna do something about it. I promise.”

 

But before they could discuss it any further, Octavia toppled over from the pyramid of their friends and soon enough they were all on the ground, groaning. And probably going to end up on some Youtube fail compilation. Or maybe even a meme. Regardless, the two of them jogged over to both chastise and to help. She meant it though, she really was going to do what she’d said to Clarke. 

 

Which is how she found herself in the sexiest thing she’d brought on vacation, a simple black dress, that was fitted enough to show off her curves, getting ready to go out dancing to what was supposed to be the best club in the area, and trying to psych herself into trying to get something going with Murphy at said club. Preferably not everything, but hell, she’d probably do it with enough liquid courage. 

 

“You can do this,” she told herself as she let her hair down out of its ponytail, “you just, you know, go up to him, you can do that.” 

 

She went to apply a hint of red lipstick, “or you can’t because you’re a big loser who definitely doesn’t deserve him,” she groaned, “fuck.”

 

Great. She was really talking to herself now. Whatever, she was going with it. 

 

“Or, you can, because you’re _Raven Reyes_ and by all accounts he’s really into you and that’s awesome because you’re really into him and when has that gone wrong?” And then it dawned on her. “Every single relationship you’ve ever had.” She tossed the lipstick into her purse. “Shit, shit, shitting shit!”

 

After the last outburst, there was a knock on her door. 

 

She cleared her throat and gave herself a little once over before saying, “come in.”

 

It was Bellamy. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked a little sheepish. 

 

“You heard, didn’t you?”

 

“Only the last part,” he told her. 

 

“That doesn’t make me feel better! That was the worst part!” She ran a hand across her forehead. “What am I gonna do?” 

 

She slouched down onto her bed, and Bellamy followed. 

 

“My advice? If you want it?”

 

“Go for it,” she said, “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

 

“Don’t think about what the past is telling you or what you think the future is, even. Just focus on the present, on what...Hell, Clarke told me she told you so…”

 

She waved a hand. “I know, yeah. Congrats on banging it out.”

 

He choked on a laugh. 

 

“What I’m trying to say is that there were, and are, a lot of reasons why that should never have happened, and I could’ve talked myself out of it. I tried to talk _her_ out of it. In the end, I’m so fucking happy I didn’t. Because it’s not perfect. It’s really complicated, and all I can do is try and figure it out with her. But Raven, it’s so much better figuring it out _with_ them than on your own.”

 

As much as she was scared how much they did, his words convinced her more than she would ever be able to with her own that she was making the right decision.

 

“Alright, I’m as ready as I’m going to be, I think.”

 

“Good,” he smirked, “because Jasper’s been complaining about you taking forever for the last twenty minutes.”

 

The club was packed when they got in, and they all just danced together. No one really felt like breaking away and doing their own thing. The only time they were separated was when they weren’t all together was when a couple of them went for some air or to grab drinks. Though she tried her hardest, none of those times involved just her and Murphy. While they danced together, perhaps a little more closely than was platonic, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t demonstrated before through flirting or jokes that went a little too far. She wanted to do something different. Something real. 

 

She had just about given up on doing it that night as they had reached the house, clambering out of cabs, all of them either still half or fully drunk. They sat up for a couple hours more, laughing about college and the years after until eventually everyone retired to bed. Except for her and Murphy. Jasper and Emori were the last ones up with them. 

 

The former actually winked at the two of them, and Emori pinched him so hard he complained, “it’s so gonna bruise.”

 

Her response was to shoot them an apologetic look and tell him, “good.”

 

They tried their best to not be awkward after that, but failed spectacularly. 

 

“I’m gonna go put my feet in the pool. Wanna come?” she asked, getting up from the couch she’d been sitting on by herself and moving towards the back of the house. 

 

She couldn’t for the life of her come up with a way to get into the chair he was occupying, so she figured this was the next best thing.

 

“Sure,” and he followed her.

 

They both sat down at the edge of the pool near the shallow end, where there was a wrap around step she could rest her feet on. He sat beside her, close, and she had to look in the other direction to hide her smile. 

 

“So,” she started.

 

“So?” He repeated when she didn’t say anything more. 

 

Goddammit, she knew he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. 

 

“Usually people follow that up with some others words, a couple of phrases, maybe, you know, strung together in a sentence.” He was grinning smugly. 

 

“Murphy...God, you’re so...” 

 

But there were no words she could really put into how she was feeling about him in that moment. How she was scared and excited and pulsing with someone that felt a lot like love all at the same time. So, she did something. She kissed him. 

 

It wasn’t unlike their first kiss, but this one was different, because she knew what to expect. There was anticipation for what she was going to feel. It made it so much better. They got tangled in each other quickly. She was gripping onto the collar of his shirt and he had buried his hand into her hair, using the other to tilt her head so the angle was damn near perfect. It was soft, and yet breathlessly hot. Finn had kissed her like she was something precious, delicate, to be protected. Murphy kissed her like he wanted to win an argument about which one of their recipes for mac n cheese was better. Like her favorite episode of _Sons of Anarchy._ Like that he knew her favorite song was by the 80s pop icon Tiffany. 

 

It was so _them_ she wanted to laugh about it, but she didn’t want the kissing to stop, so, instead, she put it into the kiss. The happiness, the fact that no one knew her sense of humor like him, no one could make her laugh like he could. As much as she saw herself as someone that knew who she was, she was pretty sure he knew her better. But just as they were really getting into it, he pulled away. 

 

If anyone asked, she most definitely _did not_ whine when he did. 

 

“That’s all you get,” he told her slipping his hand out of her hair and letting it drop from her face. “For tonight, at least.”

 

She was still a little dazed from the kiss, so it took her a second longer than usual to register what he’d said.

 

“What?”

 

He stood from the pool’s edge and offered a hand to help her up, which she took, feeling a little dizzy from what had just happened. 

 

“You think you can just kiss me and I’ll give it up that easy?” He smirked, the little shit. 

 

She kicked out her foot, “maybe a little?”

 

He laughed, one that was big and open and made him throw back his head. 

 

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve got a plan, see.”

 

“A plan?” She asked.

 

“What do you sound so surprised? Am I not allowed to have plans?”

 

“Shut up and tell me your stupid plan,” she shot back as they walked back into the house. 

 

He narrowed his eyes but relaxed a moment later and gave in. “Alright. I’m gonna _woo_ you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Woo? Do people even say that anymore.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck, I do,” he replied, a little gruffly. 

 

They walked up the stairs and paused at the door to her room. 

 

“The wooing is really off to a great start,” she grinned.

 

 _He_ kissed _her_ this time, up against the door, until she was breathless. 

 

When they broke apart, she grinned and asked, “I thought the last one was all I was getting?”

 

“Shut up. I’m wooing now. It’s different.”

 

“Is it really?” She scrunched up her nose.

 

“Screw you,” he said.

 

“I’m trying, you’re not letting me!” 

 

At that, he groaned and kissed her on the forehead.

 

“Goodnight, Raven.” 

 

With that, he left her outside her bedroom door, and she couldn’t help but think she was wrong before. This wasn’t like all the other times, because he wasn’t like anyone else. Not to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since this is really based on my experience, I make no overarching claims about Mexico, and please forgive me if you're from there or have family or just aren't a big dorky tourist and I totally mishandled anything. 
> 
> next chapter we get some more substantial bellarke and murven's first date! 
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	20. This Heart is Burning Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, this one is a bit of a rough one...but you guys didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? we've still got eight more chapters! as much as these idiots have gotten their shit together, they've still got a little ways to go before they're done screwing themselves over rip
> 
> as always, I want to thank you all so much for dedicating your time to reading and providing any kind of feedback. it means so much to me, and I will never stop being grateful or just so humbled from your kind words and support.

After their kiss by the pool, Murphy was feeling pretty good about where he and Raven were at, he thought they were on the same page. He should’ve known better than to think that it could last. Good things never did, not for him. They came in, swooped him into some kind of ecstatic bliss, and then swooped out. This time though, it was all on him. 

 

The next day, they were making fun of Jasper, who was insisting that he and Emori had formed some kind of special bond that no one else could understand. Apparently it was all because they were forced to go on vacation without their girlfriends. 

 

“If you haven’t noticed, there are four people here who are not in relationships,” Clarke pointed out. 

 

Jasper dismissed her with a quick, “semantics. And besides, like any of the rest of us are actually buying _that._ ”

 

Her cheeks went a little pink, and Bellamy was trying to hide the fact that he was grinning into his coffee for the rest of breakfast. 

 

When no one else was looking, he winked at Raven across the table. She snorted and shook her head. 

 

As much as their kiss last night had convinced him that she really did want him too, he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about the next move. About the part where he actually tried to convince her he could do this, them, for real. Everything before had been pretending or built-up tension. Now came the actual shit. The part he had never been able to get right. 

 

“So,” he said swimming up to her in the ocean when they’d all made the short trek to the beach. 

 

“So,” she replied, dragging it out and floating up onto her back. 

 

“If you keep making fun of my tactics, I’m gonna quit,” he warned her. 

 

“Good,” she shot back, “maybe then I can finally get laid.”

 

“You’re making this very difficult.”

 

“Actually, I think I’m making this rather easy. You’re the one that brought wooing into it,” she corrected. 

 

He rolled his eyes. Of course, when he was trying to actually do this in a kind of fashion that involved some romance, she was done with it entirely. But just because she was joking around with him about it didn’t mean that she wasn’t into it. Raven might’ve been a kickass engineer that could arm wrestler Lincoln, but he knew she got choked up at the romances on the shows they watched. She may not have admitted it to him, but she liked this kind of thing. If only a little. Certainly not in the way that most people did, with flowers and chocolates, but in a way that he wanted to learn. It was a difficult balance to strike, remaining himself while also trying to be what he thought she really wanted, but he would do it for her. If only he could figure out how to do that without blowing everything up in the future. 

 

“How about this? Dinner. Tonight. We ditch the rest of the losers.” 

 

It wasn’t exactly a question, and although he felt pretty confident about her answer, he was nervous to put it out there, where she could very easily reject him. 

 

She fucked with him a little by delaying her reply. 

 

Finally, though, she said, “alright. Though there better be at least some over the clothes action or I’m gone.”

 

He laughed. “You’re a real lady, the height of sophistication. Anyone ever tell you that?”

 

“All the time,” she grinned and then tackled him so they both went underwater. 

 

As the hours went on though, he got more and more on edge, and doubt gradually set in. 

 

Sure, they’d had two hot kisses, but what did that really amount to? Not much. What was she even doing with a guy like him? She dated guys like Finn and Shaw, who certainly didn’t have any kind of resemblance to him. And likewise. They weren’t exactly the most obvious pairing. Not like Clarke and Bellamy. Or Monty and Harper. There was nothing cosmically destined about them. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how wrong the two of them could go, and when they did, they would pull everyone else into it. Like a fucking atomic bomb. 

 

So, twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet Raven at the restaurant (he’d insisted on them getting their separately, which she had made fun of mercilessly) he went to a bar. Just to relax a little. 

 

“Two shots of tequila,” he told the bartender. 

 

Even as he sat there, he really thought he was going to meet her. 

 

He took the shots in quick succession. Mulling it over more, he realized that it was never going to work. Hell, he had thought he and Emori would, and now look at them. Sure, they were still friends, but he wouldn’t be lucky enough for that to happen twice. If he lost Raven, it would be completely, and for good. 

 

“Can I get two more?”

 

Because what was the point, really, if it was just all gonna go to Hell anyway? Might as well happen sooner rather than later. He looked at his phone, and there was a message from Raven. He didn’t even consider letting himself read it because he knew he’d cave and go and meet her. When the shots arrived in front of him, he downed them. 

 

The next time, he just waved a hand at the empty shot glasses. 

 

His phone buzzed again, and he ignored it. It kept going off though, and each time he almost flinched. There must’ve been a part of him that loved it though, got off on this kind of punishment because he never turned it off. 

 

He sat there for about an hour and a half, during which he’d almost downed an entire bottle. With every message he got from her or, shit, even _Clarke_ was texting him, he ordered another shot. He was pretty sure the bartender thought he was a loner alcoholic, who had come to Mexico all by himself, but he didn’t give a shit about it. Once you were at his level of drunk, you didn’t really get hung up on that sort of thing. 

 

She found him eventually. Probably stalked him on Find My Friends or something. 

 

“Hey! Asshole!” He heard from across the room, and couldn’t stop the pathetic, sad smile he got at the sound of her so pissed. 

 

“Raven,” he slurred, spinning around on the barstool, “you made it to the party.”

 

She marched up to him, in a red dress that was simple, but killer. He hated how even when drunk he noticed how gorgeous she looked. 

 

“Oh, this is the party?” She was livid, it was all over her face, the way her body practically shook with it. “Because I thought that we were supposed to be having dinner together.”

 

He felt some kind of sick pride that he’d done it. That he’d gotten the reaction he’d been seeking from her, and hopefully, she’d give up on any chance of them. 

 

“I already had dinner without you,” he pouted and picked up a shot of tequila he didn’t remember ordering. “A liquid one, and it happens to go down a lot smoother.” He drained it and slammed down the glass. 

 

“You know I waited for you at that restaurant for over an hour? You humiliated me, for fuck’s sake. Didn’t you get any of my messages?” She demanded. 

 

He sucked on his teeth. “I did. But you know, this was more fun.”

 

“Getting drunk all by yourself was more _fun_ than hanging out with me?” He hated that she actually sounded hurt, and he knew she was trying to cover it up with anger. 

 

“Yep.”

 

For a second, he thought that she would storm out after that, and that would be it. They’d be done and he could go back to being a selfish asshole that didn’t do relationships. Before Emori, he’d always figured he’d die alone. Maybe it was time to get back to that. 

 

“No way,” and she shook her head, her ponytail waving, “I know you way better than this, whatever the hell _this_ is, and it’s not you. I don’t know what happened between this afternoon and now, but I know whatever it is, it’s complete bullshit.”

 

“You done?” He asked after a moment.

 

“Not even close,” she spat, “you think this is funny? You think toying with us, because I know you’re doing it to yourself too, is a good time? It’s cowardly.”

 

“Really,” he went on, “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You think just because we kissed twice that we were gonna be something real? Pop down to a chapel and get married? Come on, be realistic.”

 

That did give her pause, and she swallowed thickly, taking a moment to clear her voice. “I’m surprised because, we, I mean...You said last night that you—”

 

“And when has my word meant jack shit?” He cut in. 

 

It was slowly killing him, behaving this way, talking to her like she meant nothing to him. It was the opposite, he was fucking in love with her. He had known it for a while, but he had never felt it as strongly as he did then. He was also never so convinced that he had to push her away. For both of their survival. 

 

Thank god for the tequila, he thought, because it was the only thing that made it possible. 

 

She scoffed, and something broke behind her eyes, but she hid it before he could really see how much of an impact he had. 

 

“You’re right. If this is what you wanna do, Murphy, if you want to chalk up everything we’ve been through together as nothing, then fucking knock yourself out.”

 

She spun around on her heel and stormed out of the place. The bartender gave him a look that spoke volumes but said nothing. 

 

He placed another shot in front of him. “This one’s on the house.” 

 

After that, he really should’ve left, but that would mean returning to the house, where Raven was stewing and no doubt would be ready for round two of their fight. Or maybe she wouldn’t, perhaps she really was done with him. That was almost worse. 

 

He figured they’d eventually send someone after him, and he wasn’t surprised when Clarke slid onto the stool beside him. 

 

“You’re a goddamn disaster, you know that?”

 

He snorted, lifting a glass to his mouth. He'd switched to the sipping kind. She swiped it from him before he could even taste it though, and took a sip.  

 

“Well, so am I,” she told him, “you’re not so special that you get to flip your shit.” 

 

He snorted. “I don’t think you really get how much I just screwed myself.”

 

“Oh, I do.” He gave her a look. “Raven said what happened. There was a lot of cursing and hand gestures, so the details are a little fuzzy, but I know what you did. Not what she thinks you did and you told her, but what you _really_ did.”

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about it,” he replied. 

 

“You can’t fool me, Murphy. Maybe you were able to convince Raven that you didn’t give a shit about tonight, but I know you. Hell, I might’ve pulled the same thing.”

 

He sighed because she was right. She knew him better than to buy his lies. Raven did too, but he’d pushed and pushed until he hit the right chords and she couldn’t let herself believe it anymore. It had been a terrible thing to do, but he really thought it was the right thing. 

 

“Fine. I was...I don’t know,” he said helplessly. She didn’t say anything in response to that, just waited for him to continue when he wanted, “I really thought I had it together, but the more I thought about it the more I realized how bad this’ll go when it ends. And it will end. I figured it would be better for her to hate me now than later when I actually knew what it was like to have her.”  He shook his head, “you may be a disaster, too, but you wouldn’t have fucked up as much as I have.”

 

Her reply was brief, to the point. 

 

“That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I have ever heard.”  

 

He opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand to silence him. 

 

“I’m not finished,” she continued, “I get it, okay? Love is fucking scary. It’s nonsensical and we would probably all be a lot happier if we could just have mindless sex for the rest of our lives. But neither one of us is lucky like that. We fell for them, whether we like it or not, and somehow, we’ve found ourselves in situations where we can be with them. And you’re not even going to _try._ ”

 

Though her words were harsh, it was what he needed to hear. If it was anyone else, they might have given up, let him wallow in his booze and decided it wasn’t worth it. That he wasn’t worth it. She wouldn’t though, had never been the type before, and she certainly wasn’t after what they’d gone through. 

 

After a moment, she added, “you think I haven’t been screwing up with Bellamy?” She snorted. “I’m terrified. I keep making excuses for why we’re not actually together. It was my idea to not share a room at the house and...I haven’t said it back, Murphy. I go to say it and,” she blew out a breath, “nothing comes out.”

 

“How does he feel about that?” He asked. Anything to get the attention off of him and the reality of what he’d done. 

 

She groaned. “Probably like shit. But to me? He says it’s fine, that it’s no big deal. But he keeps saying it, and I just stand there like an idiot.” 

 

“Good to know I’m not the only mess,” and he smiled, just a little. 

 

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you can find comfort in my inability to commit.”

 

“I really do,” he responded, and she punched him in the shoulder. He paused, and then chewed on his cheek. “What am I gonna do?”

 

“Hell if I know,” she sighed and then, “look, I think we’re both freaked out right now but...We owe it ourselves, and to them, to give it a shot. To let go of some of those fears and see if something good can come from it.”

 

Even though he didn’t want her to be, and that it would be easier to ignore her words and pretend they didn’t mean anything, she was right. Still, he wasn’t going to admit that outright. 

 

“You know you’re sounding awfully cliche right now? I think Hallmark is looking for a new writer for their Christmas movies. You should apply.”

 

She smirked. “Asshole. And yes, I am painfully aware of the shift in the tone of this interaction, and no one is more ashamed than me.”

 

“Just as long you’re aware,” and when she didn’t say anything to that, he added, “Clarke, can we go back to the house now? I can’t feel my legs. Or my arms. I’m pretty sure I might just be a floating talking head right now.”

 

She laughed and helped him off the stool. “There, there,” she said, “I can’t wait for you to feel this in the morning. But for now, I’ll help your sad-sack self get to bed, even if you are just a floating head with a notorious mouth on him.”

* * *

Bellamy was at a loss about what to do or say to Clarke. It wasn’t awkward exactly, but there were definitely a lot of things unsaid, on both of their ends. 

 

They were fine when they were together, especially around everyone else. It was easy, even. But the farthest they’d come to kissing since the night they’d had sex was when he kissed her on the forehead after she had talked to her mom. 

 

He wasn’t the one setting the boundary between them, which he wouldn’t have minded if he knew what she was thinking about it all. 

 

They talked every day, but they hadn’t yet talked about the fact that they’d had sex. She’d mentioned she had told Raven about them to let her know it was okay to make a move on Murphy, but that was it. 

 

He couldn’t stop himself from telling her loved her though. It was up to three times now. 

 

“I’m not saying it expecting to hear it back,” he’d told her after the most recent time, sensing her worry, “I just...I want you to know it and I feel it and I don’t have to hide it anymore. That’s all, okay?”

 

She was much more relaxed after that, telling him she knew he wasn’t trying to pressure her, and they’d even almost fallen asleep in her bed watching a movie while Jasper and Monty blared techno music from the pool. 

 

But the fact that they weren’t talking about the biggest development gave him pause.  Maybe she regretted it, and wanted to pretend it never happened. Or she hadn’t actually been ready and he had hurt her again in some way. He didn’t think this was the case, but when it was their fourth day into the trip and they hadn’t discussed it, he got worried. 

 

Jasper’s constant pointing out of every time they touched or Octavia’s incessant winking didn’t help either. 

 

The landmine that was Raven and Murphy made things much more complicated. Everyone knew what had happened, mostly in part because of her tirade, and no one wanted to touch that situation.

 

That morning, Murphy didn’t come down for breakfast. 

 

“He’s probably just hungover,” Clarke explained.

 

“Good,” Raven snapped. “I hope he’s got a migraine that could split open the Earth’s crust.”

 

No one said anything for the rest of breakfast, except for Harper, who said the eggs tasted off to her and then promptly fled to the kitchen and threw up in the sink. 

 

Clarke jumped in, ordering her to bed, worried she may have taken in some water or something and could get very ill. 

 

With her occupied for most of the day, and him unable to focus on a book about Theseus and the Minotaur in the Labyrinth, he asked Monty, who had taken over cooking duties, if there was anything he could do to help. 

 

“Bring this to Murphy,” he instructed, handing him some kind of drink that looked and smelled awful.

 

“Do I even want to know what this is?” He asked. 

 

“Best hangover cure there is. Believe me, me and Jasper know all about that. Remember us after Spring Fling?”

 

“I’d rather not.” Just the thought of it made him a little queasy.

 

“Well,” he pointed to the drink in Bellamy’s hand, “ _that_ is the only thing that saved us. Seriously, I think we would’ve died without it. Though, drinking it does make you want to die, but only for like five minutes.”

 

“I’m sure Murphy will be overjoyed,” he deadpanned but took it upstairs and to the other’s room. 

 

Knocking on the door, he called out, “you’re gonna have to emerge at some point, but while you try and get it together enough to do that, Monty gave me something for you.”

 

He heard a string of mumbled curses and took this as a cue to enter the room. 

 

The other was gathered in a mound of blankets. His head was at the foot of the bed and there was a trashcan next to it which Bellamy definitely did not want to know the contents of, though he could guess. 

 

“Hello, sunshine,” he greeted. 

 

“Go fuck yourself with a hose,” Murphy shot back.

 

“While that is a lovely image, I have something for you,” he presented the drink to him, and he immediately recoiled. 

 

“Is he trying to poison me?”

 

“Maybe. Though he said it was the best hangover cure there was and that he and Jasper—” But he didn’t even get the words out before he was motioning for the drink. 

 

“Give it,” he commanded.

 

“Manners?”

 

“Give it or I’ll tell Clarke it was you who accidentally killed her Betta fish her senior year.” 

 

He handed over the drink without question. She had loved that fish. He felt awful about it, even though he’d gotten her a new one the next day. 

 

“Secret’s safe with me,” Murphy told him, and then sat up. 

 

“Oh, just a warning, Monty said you might want to die after drinking it for a couple of minutes.”

 

“I’m already dead inside,” he replied with a grin.

 

With surprising gumption, he drained the entire contents of the cup within seconds. 

 

“Fuck,” he said, “Monty wasn’t kidding.” He shook his head. “Tell me something to distract me so I don’t throw all of that up.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Anything, dude, I’m serious,” he paused and then asked, a little snarkily, “how’s paradise with the Mrs.?”

 

“Murphy…”

 

“Oh come on, you’re dying to talk about you two,” he said, “I can smell it on you.”

 

He tried to fight the urge to confess it all. Even though he and Murphy were friends, close friends, even, he seemed more like Clarke’s now. He knew that that was ridiculous. They were all friends. Surely, they could talk about this kind of thing. It did feel a little weird, though.

 

“I promise not to make it painfully awkward and melodramatic if you do,” Murphy assured him. 

 

Giving in, he dropped into a chair across from the bed. 

 

“Alright, so as she probably told you, we slept together and—” Murphy blurted out a reply before he could go any further though. 

 

“ _What?!_ ”

 

“Oh shit,” he muttered. “I thought she would’ve told you...I mean, she told Raven so I figured...Oh, god. You can’t tell her I told you, okay? This whole thing is...It’s so fucking complicated I barely know what’s going on, alright? I feel awful and—” 

 

Murphy cut in again, but this time, he did so by cackling out laughter. 

 

“Relax, okay? I’m not gonna rat on you, middle school style. Besides, she was probably too busy dealing with my fuck up to tell me,” he snorted, “man, she told me you’ve been telling her you love her all the time and I figured you were doing it without even getting laid but,” he shook his head, “you’re so in it. And she’s a bigger mess than she let on.”

 

“She’s not a mess,” he argued.

 

Murphy raised a brow, but nodded, “alright, fine. But this whole situation certainly is.”

 

That, Bellamy couldn’t disagree with. 

 

“It’s not _all the time_ ,” he went on.

 

“How many times, then, oh well-adjusted one?”

 

He rolled his eyes but muttered out an answer. 

 

“Three times more than her,” he said, “interesting.”

 

“I don’t care about that.”

 

“You don’t?” Murphy was surprised, and maybe even digging a little to see if he was lying, but he wasn’t. 

 

“No, I don’t,” he continued, “as much as I want to hear those words from her, I don’t want her to say them until she feels secure. Until she’s sure about what it means. I want her to feel like she can tell me whatever she’s feeling, and that includes her not being ready to say it back.”

 

“You’re overly romantic,” was the other’s reply, “surely you’ve been hearing that your entire life?”

 

Bellamy scoffed.

 

“It’s cool though. Think Clarke’s into it.”

 

He couldn’t resist asking, “is she, though?” He ran a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know.”

 

“Was the sex that bad?” 

 

Bellamy was gonna kill him. 

 

He held up his hands. “I was just kidding. Besides, she’s crazy about you. Might be a little crazy _with_ you too but…She’s just a little freaked out.”

 

“She told you that she is?” He asked.

 

Murphy nodded. “When she came to get me after my temper tantrum. She relates I think, because...It’s not you that she’s scared of, it’s herself.”

 

He frowned, and so he explained further, “it’s like this: she has a shitty relationship with her mom and a dead dad and a handful of failed relationships. It doesn’t exactly bode well for the future. Throw in the ride this year has been...Look, I’m not saying it makes any kind of sense, but she’s worried about what might happen. About it turning into even more of a disaster than it was before. A part of her probably believes it’d be better if she sabotages it now, instead of later, because then at least it’ll be over and done with. Which is why you have to stop her from doing it.”

 

As he took in the other’s words, a piece of him ached that Clarke felt that way, that she was scared, in part because of the way he’d behaved and what he’d done. He knew it wasn’t all him though, that he couldn’t take all of the credit nor the blame. When it came down to it though, he only had one question for the other. 

 

“How? How do I help her from screwing this up?”

 

“You just…” He shook his head, lost in thought. “I don’t think there was anything Raven could’ve done. I spiraled too fast and too deep. But talk to her. Let her know that...That you’re not going anywhere, and it’s okay for her to be freaked out, because you get to be freaked out together. Just tell her you don’t care if the world explodes because you’re together.” 

 

“And you call me the overly romantic one,” he replied, a little smug. “But, thank you, Murphy.”

 

He got up from the chair and paused when he got to the door. 

 

“And for what it’s worth. I don’t think she’s given up completely on you.”

 

“How can you tell?” Murphy asked, and Bellamy could hear the glimmer of hope there. 

 

“Because,” he said, “she’s been insulting you all morning. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t be saying anything.”

 

“What she’d say about me?” 

 

He laughed a little, because yeah, he wasn’t the only one completely in it. 

 

“That she hopes a Kraken emerges from the sea next time we got to the beach and rips you apart, one limb at a time.” 

 

Turning the knob and leaving the room, he peeked behind him. Murphy was grinning. 

 

It was different to hear good advice and actually follow through. 

 

He was determined to do it though, which is why before Monty started in on dinner, he knocked on Clarke’s bedroom door. 

 

She called for him to come in. She had just showered and changed from her, Octavia, and Jasper’s hike, and was toweling off her hair. 

 

“What’s up?”

 

He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans, unsure of how to start the conversation, how to even begin to think of the right thing to say to her. Murphy had told him what he had to do, but it had to be his own words, his way of telling her what knew she needed to hear. 

 

“Is something wrong?” She asked. Concern was etched across her features, down in the frown that was forming on her lips.

 

He shook his head, “no, no...It’s not that. But, I would like to talk. That is—if you would.” 

 

While he wanted to discuss things, he wouldn’t force the issue, not if she needed more time. Even if she just told him that, it would ease some of his worries, for he’d know they’d talk about it eventually. 

 

To his relief, she replied, “me, too. I’ve been meaning to bring it up...It’s a little daunting.”

 

“A little?”

 

She laughed slightly. “Okay, yeah, a lot. It’s a goddamn maze to navigate, you know?”

 

“Like the Labyrinth,” he said, thinking of the book he’d abandoned earlier. 

 

“Nerd,” she shot back. 

 

“Never said I wasn’t,” and then, “we’re dancing around it, aren’t we?”

 

“Just a bit,” she agreed. “I think it’s okay to do it though, releases some of the tension.”

 

“We can do it our own way.”

 

She brightened. “Yeah?”

 

“Of course,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “but our way does include actually speaking about it, right?”

 

“Please,” she said, “I think if we don’t do it now...I don’t know if I ever will have the guts to do it. Not because of you,” she quickly added, “but because of _me._ ” 

 

He remembered what Murphy had mentioned, that after everything, she was scared. He just wanted to support her, and help her figure out what they really were to one another. The only thing he really hoped for is they could figure that out together, and in a way that made them both happy. 

 

He took a breath. “Okay, so—” 

 

She jumped in before he could barely get a word out. 

 

“Wait! I just, um...Could we go outside or something? Go somewhere else to talk? I think I need to be outside or doing something other than just sitting here and having to get it all out at once. It’s…” She swallowed, “sorry, I just feel a lot of pressure to do or say the right thing or have the right response.” 

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he told her, and she visibly let out some of the tension she’d been holding in her shoulders. “Of course we can go somewhere, though. Hell, I’m feeling the pressure, too.”

 

There was a lot of it, so much so that the room was palpable with it. They needed somewhere open, where they could be themselves and yet also have access to something tangible. They couldn’t be one another’s only lifelines in the conversation. It came to him eventually. 

 

“How about the beach?” He asked. “Monty will be busy with dinner for at least another two hours, and Harper’s sleeping, right? So...I don’t know,” and he felt the nerves that it was a horrible idea set in, “maybe it’s not right or—” but she walked up to him and took his hand, linking their fingers together. 

 

“It’s perfect. Let’s go. Right now. Before I definitely psych myself out and completely ruin this for both of us.”

 

He smiled at their hands. “You, ruining this? Not possible.”

 

“How are you so sure?” She asked. 

 

It was sappy, but it was the truth, “because it’s us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I know things for murven are a little bleak, but there is definitely still hope there, for both of them, and everything's going to plan for them and bellarke, i promise!
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information on this fic and my other works or just to have a chat


	21. You Explained the Infinite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little bit shorter, just to keep with the pacing of things, but it's still over 4k and the next one is gonna be rather long so...I hope it's alright. 
> 
> this one continues off where the last chapter left off, and will hopefully give some resolution to some of the problems bellamy and clarke and murphy and raven are facing. it also features a "family dinner" and a very special announcement.
> 
> the response to this fic has been amazing, and I am so thankful to each and every one of you that has put it in the time to read, comment, or leave kudos or even hmu on tumblr. as we reach the final group of chapters, I will probably devolve into a sap fest, and just want to let you know you all mean the world to me.

She was still holding Bellamy’s hand when they went out into the living room. Jasper and Miller were playing an intense game of Mario Kart which involved a lot of cursing from Miller and jumping up and down from Jasper. As soon as the latter spotted them though, he lost the game in spectacular fashion. 

 

Placing a hand on his chest, he said, “they grow up so fast.”

 

“Dude, you do realize I just crushed you, right?” Miller cut in.

 

He shook his head. “My pride may be gone, but my heart is  _full_.”

 

“Yeah…” Bellamy trailed off, trying to hide his smirk, “we’re gonna go for a walk.”

 

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Octavia asked, launching herself onto the couch and swiping the controller out of Jasper’s hands. 

 

“Hey!” He exclaimed, trying, and failing, to get it back. 

 

“We agreed. I play the winner. And you are most definitely not the winner,” she said. 

 

“Better go now while you can,” Harper added, coming down the stairs, “and while the place is still standing.”

 

“Alright, but you’re feeling better?” 

 

She nodded. “Definitely. It wasn’t anything serious, trust me. Just a...Little thing that upset my stomach. But thank you.”

 

“Don’t burn the house down,” she warned the rest of them, “it’s a rental.”

 

“We’ll try,” Jasper assured her, giving Bellamy a thumbs up when he thought she couldn’t see. 

 

The fear that seemed to come whenever she and Bellamy were alone reared its head right on schedule as they walked out of the back of the house. She didn’t let go of his hand though. She was proud of herself for that, at least. Focusing on her breathing, she tried to power through the anxieties that ran through her mind. God, they hadn’t even said anything yet and she was already a mess. 

 

“Were our friends always like that? I could’ve sworn there was a time they were at least semi-normal,” he said. 

 

The half-joke was a welcome distraction, one that she suspected was on purpose. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to cling onto it.  

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. They’ve always been like this. The first time I met Jasper, he didn’t have eyebrows because he’d eaten too many brownies the night before and had Monty shave them off.” 

 

It really did make her feel better, as she found herself laughing a little at the memory. 

 

“You may have a point there,” he admitted as they made their way down the stone path that led through a thick stretch of trees and opened up onto the beach. 

 

There was no one else there at that hour, and while she was nervous about what they’d planned to talk about, being near the ocean and the salty air was comforting. There was a slight breeze, and it ruffled Bellamy’s curls in a way that made her ache to comb her fingers through them. 

 

She yearned to be close to him but feared what his touch would incite, what letting herself give into it once and for all would mean for her, and for him. Even though they’d slept together, there was one more step to take. One she knew could lead to heartbreak for them both if it went all wrong.

 

“Let’s go down by the water,” she suggested. 

 

“Okay,” and he squeezed her hand a little like he was checking in without words. 

 

 _Are you sure you still want to talk about it?_ It seemed to say.

 

She mimicked the movement and he was as reassured as she could possibly make him. 

 

They were quiet for a while, just walking near the ocean. Clarke slipped off her sandals and held them in her free hand. Bellamy offered to carry them, but she waved him off, smirking a little at the gesture. 

 

She didn’t know how to start, but she knew that he was giving her space to figure it out. As much as she wished it could be him to dive into the conversation first, it had to be her. He’d already made it clear how he felt, what he wanted. Now it was her turn. If only she didn’t feel like such an idiot and a loss for words. He had always been the eloquent one, but she knew if she didn’t speak up now, then she never would. 

 

“It’s no surprise I’m scared of this,” she started at last, “but I don’t want you thinking it’s all because of you or what happened at my mother’s party or leading up to it.”

 

“Some of it is, though, right?” He asked. 

 

She nodded. “I know you’ve done everything to make up for it, and that means more to me than what actually happened.”

 

He relaxed a little at that, but she could read the guilt all over his face, even in the twilight of the evening. 

 

“But I’ve always been...I mean, I’m used to cutting and running, you know? I’m used to shutting myself off from other people and blaming myself.”

 

“What I did, and how I behaved,” he shook his head, “it’s the farthest thing from your fault, Clarke. I was so caught up in my own shit I couldn’t see that I was hurting you. And I hate that, that it is my fault, even only partially, that you’re scared of this,” he motioned between the two of them, “and I know me saying that doesn’t take any of it away, but—”

 

“It helps,” she cut in, “to hear you say it. I mean, I already know you feel it, but the words are nice, too. And I’m not telling you any of this because I want you to beat yourself up for something that happened months ago. I’m telling you this because...I want to be _closer_.”

 

“Me too,” he replied. 

 

She blew out a shaky breath, willing herself to go on. 

 

“It’s not just you though, you can’t take all of the blame for it. I’m...It’s like I ruin everyone I love, or they ruin me? My dad died because I convinced him to take a risk, my mom fell apart and became an addict after I distanced myself because of her role in his death, and Finn betrayed me,” she scoffed, “it just goes on and on, you know? And with all of it, I can’t help but see the only common thing is _me._ I think part of me is so terrified of this because I think I’ll ruin it. That I’ll destroy what we already have, and I...I don’t know if I could survive losing that.”

 

Then he stopped them, pausing halfway down the beach. 

 

“Can I say something?” 

 

“Of course,” she replied. 

 

“None of those things is a reflection of who _you_ are,” and he reached over and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, letting his hand linger for just a second before he pulled away, “I know it feels _right_ to blame yourself for those things. It’s easy, to put it all on yourself, to accept all the bad and make it your fault. But it isn’t, not even close. I can also promise you that even if this doesn’t work out, you won’t lose me. Not ever.” He swallowed, “you’ve been through so much, but you haven’t let it break you.”

 

“I think I might be a little broken,” she said, unable to resist arguing his point. 

 

He laughed. “Well, I definitely am. So we’re quite the pair.” 

 

They’d started walking again without her realizing it, and she was leaning into his side, just a little, so their arms touched with their movements and her hip sometimes brushed against his side. 

 

“I know you’re not done with the impassioned speech though…” She trailed off, bumping her hip more purposefully at his side. 

 

He grinned, whether at the contact or the words, she didn’t know. Maybe a combination of the two. 

 

“Not even close, but I’ll try to reign it in a little,” he went on, “I know my saying this doesn’t even begin to ease the pain or the self-doubt, but I want you to hear it. The only thing I want, the only thing I’m really asking, is if you think you could let me go through the fear with you, to just be there?”

 

“How is that enough for you, though?” 

 

She couldn’t help but wonder: _What did he get out of it?_

 

“It just is. I can’t really explain it, except that I love you,” and when he said the words, she smiled a little, looking down at the sand to hide it, but she was sure it didn’t work. “And the idea of you and I having anything together and that not being enough for me? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You asked me to be patient with you, and I want you to know that I intend to be. I’m okay with waiting, however long you need.”

 

A part of her had known all of that to be true, that he had even confirmed it before for her in the past, but hearing him say it after she confessed how scared she was of herself, of the things _she_ could do them? It meant so much she didn’t have the words for it. 

 

She wanted to respond in some profound way, but couldn’t figure out how to do that. Thank you felt off and the last thing that she could bear to do was make the moment feel disingenuous. She knew what she _wanted_ to say, but she didn’t know if she could actually say it. She had to try though. For both of them. They’d earned it, she thought. 

 

“Clarke,” he started, probably sensing her nerves, her building herself up as much as she could, “you don’t have to—” 

 

And it was that reassurance that made her know that she could say it. That she didn’t want to _not_ be saying it for another moment. 

 

“I know I don’t have to,” she said. “I want to though.” 

 

She untangled their hands, but before doubt could set in on his face, she reached up and looped her arms around his neck. He didn’t say anything, and if she couldn’t feel his pulse, she would’ve wondered if he was breathing. The way he was looking at her made her blush from her neck to her cheeks. It was as if she was every one of his favorite stars, an entire universe in her eyes. 

 

“I love you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper but loud enough he could hear. “I’m in love with you, Bellamy.”

 

When he kissed her, he lifted her off of her feet as if it was nothing. She was half-laughing into the kiss and he was grinning. They were using way more teeth than was comfortable which kept it from becoming a real kiss, one they could really melt into. She didn’t care though, couldn’t bring herself to even think about it too much.

 

Once he’d set her down, she brought him down for another kiss. This one they could get into so much more than the first. One of his hands were anchored on the small of her back, while the other cupped her cheek. 

 

The beach was not an ideal place for sex, she knew, but she wanted him. She wanted everything _now_ and she somehow knew it would be different this time. Felt it deep in her bones, and she felt without him saying it that he did too.

 

Just as she was comparing the pros and cons of having sex where she could get sand in very uncomfortable places, he stopped the kiss and pulled away. 

 

“What are you doing?” She asked, hating how her voice sounded like it belonged to a child that had had their favorite toy taken away. 

 

“As much as I definitely don’t want to stop this, if we miss Monty’s dinner, Harper will never forgive us for dissing his skills.”

 

She took a moment to get her breathing under control. Even after she did, she still felt as if she’d spent the last minute spinning around in a circle. It wasn’t a bad feeling though, more like one she wanted to chase for the rest of her life. 

 

“True,” she realized. 

 

“Besides,” he added, “we’ve got time. No need to rush everything at once.”

 

As they made their way back to the house, she settled back into his side, trying to get as close as possible while still being able to move forward. 

 

 _Yeah,_ she thought, _we’ve got time_.

* * *

Raven was pissed. All the time. Everywhere she went. For that entire day. She knew it was selfish, and a little bit melodramatic, but she was so upset about what had happened the previous night, she couldn’t hold it in. Pain and disappointment weren’t new things in her life, she had become accustomed to them. Whether it was physical or emotional or some mix of the two. This time was different though. This time she knew she was partly to blame for the pain she was feeling. 

 

At first, it’d been easy to dismiss what he’d done as callous, as him just being Murphy. But the more she analyzed every moment of their conversation, the more she realized there was so much more to it. 

 

If she had never taken so long to admit her feelings to Murphy, if she hadn’t told him that him and his friendship meant nothing to her, then he might not have freaked out so badly. He might’ve met her at the restaurant. She knew it wasn’t all on her, that he had his own shit that led him to do what he did, but she also knew she was part of the reason he didn’t show. 

 

She’d managed to avoid him the entire day, but as she stepped out of her door to go to dinner, she almost ran right into him. 

 

There was no way to tell how long he’d been standing there, but she felt that it must’ve been at least a couple of minutes. From both the way he shifted nervously on his feet and that he looked a little surprised that _she_ had been the one to step into the hallway. As if he didn’t know that it was her room. 

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

“Hi?” She tried to make it sound cold, but it came out as more of a question. 

 

“I want to apologize.”

 

“For what?” She asked, and this time, she did manage to make herself sound aloof. 

 

What a load of shit. She wanted to snort at her own behavior. As if she wasn’t completely still hung up on him. As if she wasn’t dying to know what he was going to say. Sometimes, it was easier to just not care than let herself feel the pain. This was one of those times. Though she worried he was going to _make_ her feel it. He always seemed to have that effect. 

 

“Come on, Raven,” he muttered, but loud enough she knew she was meant to hear. 

 

“Sorry,” she said, “sorry.” 

 

It wasn’t really what she wanted to say, not even close, but she had never been good with words. Or actions. Really, she wasn’t sure she was much good at anything except for her job. The emotions stuff? It always seemed to bite her in the ass, no matter what she did. 

 

“What do you have to be sorry for?” He was genuinely confused, a crease developing between his brows. 

 

“Like you have to ask?”

 

He scoffed. “You think I’m still pissed about what happened months ago?”

 

“Maybe not pissed,” she clarified, “but it had an impact. I know it did. And I know we’ve done everything we can to move on from it...But it changed how you saw me, how you saw _us_.” 

 

He didn’t respond to that for a second, and she knew she was right. 

 

“You might have a point,” he told her. 

 

She nodded. “And I know that that is completely on me and I...I just feel like I’m the reason you didn’t show up, and I’m pissed at myself for it but I’m also pissed at _you_ still and I don’t know what to think or feel.”

 

He laughed, and she straightened in surprise. 

 

“I didn’t mean to, god, Raven, I’m not laughing at you,” he explained, “this whole situation it’s...It’s fucked, you know?”

 

She chewed on her lip. “I do."

 

“You mess up because you can’t deal with your feelings for me and then I mess up because I’m scared of what the hell could happen between us because nothing good in my life seems to stick around for long.”

 

At that, she couldn’t help but argue, “yeah, but most of that is hardly your fault.” She could tell he didn’t buy it though, so she pressed on, “and it’s okay, you know? To flip your shit...I should’ve known better, shouldn’t have reacted as I did.”

 

“Please, you reacted exactly as you should’ve. Exactly like I had expected. Hell, like I wanted you to.”

 

She knew it took a lot for him to tell her that. It hurt to hear it though, to know that he’d done it knowing what the consequences would be, but hadn’t she known that already? He knew her well, knew _them_ well. The move had been fueled by his emotions, yes, but it was calculated. Strategic. 

 

“Maybe,” she allowed, “but I could’ve figured out what had happened sooner.” 

 

“You realized it out pretty damn quick,” he said. 

 

She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re easy to analyze when I’m not homicidally angry at you.” 

 

“Ouch, you wound me. And here I thought I was the complicated one,” and he placed a hand across his heart as he said it. 

 

“I think we’re both pretty fucked up.”

 

A silence settled between them, and she understood that they both knew they were using jokes to dance around their issues. 

 

“We just can’t seem to stop hurting one another,” he said in a somber tone that hadn’t been there a moment ago. 

 

She had to admit, he did have a point. 

 

“What does that mean? Where does that leave us, you know? That this is a sign we should just give up? Be just friends?”

 

He looked a little relieved she did want to be his friend, even after what he’d pulled. She had thought about cutting him out of her life last night, but when she thought it through in the morning, she knew it was the last thing that would make her, or him, happy. 

 

“I don’t know...Maybe,” he replied, “maybe it isn’t worth the risk.”

 

She wanted to launch into some passionate speech, something about how they truly cared for one another and could make it work. Her fears held her back though, and she knew it was the same for him. He was giving them both an out without either of them getting any more hurt than they already had been. As much as she didn’t want the failed dinner to be a sign for what was to come, she couldn’t help but think that he was correct. She allowed herself one more check, just to make sure he was serious. 

 

“You really believe that?”

 

“I don’t want it to be the solution, but I’d rather us be friends than nothing at all. I can’t imagine what that would be like, what it would _feel_ like, to not have you in my life. Things have gotten so screwed up I...I need you, Raven. And maybe the way we make sure we’re okay is by letting this go.”

 

He was better with the words than she was, she knew that. Not by much, but still better. His opinions about them were valid. A little cold, but also filled with emotions she didn’t want to look too closely at. 

 

“I think, as much as it sucks, you’re right.”

 

He sighed. “Fuck. I hate being right.”

 

“Me too,” she replied.

 

“If I could, I wouldn’t be,” and she knew that he really meant it. 

 

“Is this what doing the adult thing looks like?” She asked after an awkward moment passed between them, scrunching up her nose.

 

“Unfortunately, I think so.”

 

“Disgusting,” she continued, “I hate it.”

 

He snorted. “Me too.”

 

Before she could say anything else though, Jasper called them down for dinner, threatening to, “show everyone how many hot peppers I can eat until I pass out without you two!" 

 

They certainly didn’t want to miss out on that, so they made their way downstairs, making bets on how quickly he’d lose consciousness. 

 

Even though she believed they were doing the mature thing, it didn’t make it hurt any less, and she sensed he felt similarly. They would get over it, eventually, though. Wouldn’t they?

 

Dinner was rather uneventful, aside from Jasper actually bursting into tears and turning almost purple after he ate the fifth pepper. Jackson forced him to stop after that, claiming that he could actually have internal damage. 

 

To that, Jasper responded, “I’ll take the damage if it means proving myself victorious!”

 

Lincoln added, “but no one else is going against you. You’re literally competing with yourself.”

 

This appeared to have not occurred to him, so he declared himself the winner and undefeated champion.

 

“Of what?” Murphy asked, his voice low enough for just her to hear. “Dumbassery?’

 

She had to cover up her snort by taking a long sip of her beer. It wasn’t until then that she’d noticed almost everyone had a drink before them, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was that everyone did, except Harper. 

 

The more she thought about it, the more she realized she hadn’t had a single drink the whole time they’d been there. And she’d thrown up that morning, but didn’t appear sick in the slightest. 

 

She made eye contact with her, her jaw-dropping and eyes bulging out of her head. Harper’s eyes went wide too and she snuck a glance at Monty, which told Raven everything she needed to know to be sure. 

 

“Raven are you okay?” Monty asked. “Shit, was it too spicy?”

 

She looked from him to Harper in quick succession. “You,” she said, and then turning back to Monty, “and you!” 

 

Really, it was not the best reaction she’d ever had, but looking back, it was kind of a hilarious story for everyone to tell. 

 

“Oh, fuck,” Harper blew out a breath. “She definitely just figured it out,” she told her boyfriend.

 

“Figured what out?” Bellamy asked. 

 

Monty and Harper exchanged a glance, and she nodded quickly, and he beamed. 

 

“Well, we have some news…”

 

“You’re getting married, aren’t you? Harper, I thought we talked about how marriage is a capitalist trap,” Emori said, shaking her head. 

 

“It’s not that,” Harper said. 

 

“Then what…” Clarke started and then stopped. “Oh. My. God. I should’ve been able to tell! I can’t believe I missed it.”

 

So, that made two of them that had figured it out. 

 

“Missed what? The hell are you guys going on about?” Octavia asked, whipping her head around the table. 

 

Monty cleared his throat, “everyone…” 

 

But Harper jumped in before he could finish, “we’re pregnant! Well, I am. I’m pregnant!”

 

Everyone lost their shit after that. 

 

Miller clapped Monty on the shoulder and beamed and said, “can’t wait to meet the mini genius who happens to somehow bottle sunshine,” which made both of them grin so much Raven thought it must’ve been painful. 

 

Octavia declared herself, “Amazing Aunt Octavia, who will keep the kid from becoming a total dork like their parents,” within minutes. 

 

Clarke got out of her seat and tackled Monty in a hug and Bellamy did the same with Harper, and then they switched. 

 

Murphy was practically cackling at his own libido jokes, which made Monty roll his eyes. 

 

Jasper was openly crying, switching between clinging to Monty or Harper and going on about how this was going to be, “the best person to ever live”. 

 

“How far along are you?” She asked Harper when everyone had calmed down, if only slightly. 

 

“Twelve weeks,” she replied, “with my genetic condition, we knew there was a chance...We just wanted to be sure everything was okay,” and Raven nodded and brought her in for a tight hug. 

 

“I’m so glad that it is.”

 

Then they started in on the details.

 

“How did you find out?” Emori asked, grinning wildly. 

 

Raven wasn’t sure which she was happier about: the fact that her friend was pregnant or that she wasn’t getting married. 

 

“The normal way,” Harper said, “and Monty was next to me. So, not really exciting. Oh,” she added, “except for the part where my dad reminded him that he’d been a sniper in the military when we told my parents.”

 

“He is as terrifying as he sounds,” he assured them all. 

 

“And we _are_ getting married,” she said, “just not until after the baby is born. Sorry, Emori, another one bites the capitalist dust,” but the other grinned and said she couldn’t wait to wear the ugly bridesmaid’s dress.

 

“Anya can rip it off with her teeth, which I’m sure she’ll love,” she added, to the reaction of a mix of horror, embarrassment, and nervous laughter from their friends. 

 

They kept up with the questions for a while, all of them wanting to know everything they could, at least, everything that was appropriate. Lincoln clarified that last bit and pointedly looked at Jasper, for which everyone, probably especially Harper and Monty, were grateful. 

 

Once they ran out of questions, Jasper made a long, rambling toast that didn’t make much sense, but it made Monty cry, which made half of the rest of them cry. Including Lincoln and Bellamy. 

 

The former received a big hug from Octavia, who had actually shed a tear or two for the first time anyone could remember. The latter of whom only shed a few tears but tried to cover them up. Raven noticed Clarke lift herself up so she could put her head on his shoulder and whisper something in his hear that made him grin. 

 

It was so surreal, the fact she had friends that were having a freaking baby. But it seemed right, too. They were all getting to that point in their lives where they were ready for that kind of thing, where they weren’t only expected to, but also could decide for themselves what would be right for them. And she and Murphy had decided to give up. 

 

In light of celebrating her friends’ happiness, it felt so fucking wrong. 

 

Harper and Monty were about to embark on this huge thing, this risky, impossible, maybe disastrous thing. They were a little bit scared, she could tell, and was intent on being there for her friends when they would need her. They were diving in though, regardless of everything that could go wrong. The risks were laid out clearly before them, and yet, they were going to do it anyway. Because that was fucking _life._

 

God, she was the biggest idiot in the world. 

 

How could she think she and Murphy were doing the grown-up thing when it was actually the opposite? They weren’t being mature. They were hiding. It was so clear to her, seeing Harper and Monty and the love and joy on their faces. As she took in everyone else’s happiness for them, including her own. They had almost had something amazing, and they were going to throw it away because they were afraid. 

 

It was all bullshit, the whole deciding to just be friends thing, the pretending she didn’t feel the way she did, his love affair with self-sabotage. It couldn’t be the way things ended. She wouldn’t let it, not if she could still stop it. 

 

Raven was in love with Murphy, and she was going to tell him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about that?! I hope I've tried to make their problems and how they resolve them feel organic. I know this has been a massive slow burn, but we're really getting close with all of these dumbs finally getting it together, I promise. 
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	22. The Beating of Our Hearts is the Only Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, we're earning that rating yet again in this chapter. the first half is pretty tame, but once you get to the second half be on the lookout if it's not your thing. it should be pretty obvious when it's a good time to cut out.
> 
> again, thank you, thank you, thank you for the wonderful response you've given me. I can't wait to wrap this baby up, and I am so excited to read your reaction. without all of you, I never would've gotten this far. now excuse me, gotta go cry about how this wild journey is almost over.

They stayed up late into the night, celebrating Harper and Monty’s news, which he was still wrapping his head around. He knew it wasn’t that crazy for them to be doing this, hell, he’d been getting engaged less than a year ago. Despite that, a part of him really couldn’t believe that they were going to have a _baby_. It was crazy, and yet, made perfect sense for them and where they were at. Even though, according to Harper, this was one of those “happy accidents”. He didn’t want the night to end—so much good had come from it. Not only for his friends but for him and Clarke.

 

When they’d come in from their walk, they didn’t say anything, but it must’ve been all over their faces.

 

“Oh, thank god,” O had said, “I for sure thought she might crush your heart into dust.”

 

“I tried to make a betting pool, but Harper said that was inappropriate,” Emori had added helpfully. 

 

“Thanks,” Clarke’d told Harper, who nodded and shot Emori a look. 

 

Jasper had flung himself onto both of them, exclaiming, “you two are amazing!” But when Miller had cleared his throat pointedly, he immediately jumped back. “I mean…” He’d straightened his t-shirt. “I’m cool. Obviously.”

 

It had taken everything in him to not burst out laughing or blush so hard his skin burned. 

 

Dinner was a welcome distraction, and Harper and Monty’s news took the pressure right off of them, for which he could tell Clarke was grateful. 

 

While he was trying to not make a big deal of the fact that she had told him she was in love with him, he was barely holding onto any resemblance of control. Thank god for the baby, really, because it meant no one noticed he was silently freaking out for the rest of the night. 

 

He wasn’t scared, in fact, the opposite. He couldn’t believe that he had actually heard the words from her, words he never would’ve imagined he’d get to. The difficult part was still before them, figuring out how to do this, but somehow, he knew it wouldn’t be as hard as the rest of it had been. 

 

Getting to one another had been the impossible, but actually being together? He felt it was going to be like breathing. Maybe breathing that needed some help from one another sometimes, but he figured they could manage that. 

 

Once they had thoroughly celebrated their friends’ unexpected announcement, everyone started to make excuses for going to bed, whether or not it was actually to sleep. 

 

When Clarke got up, she asked him, “wanna watch the newest episode of _Bachelor in Paradise_? I read on twitter that’s supposed to be a good one.”

 

“That’s code for banging,” Jasper said. 

 

“It is not,” he argued. 

 

“Clarke _is_ way too serious about that show to use it as code to get down,” Raven acknowledged. 

 

“Now, there’s a thought,” Monty interjected, “because we do know that Bellamy would be willing to watch anything Clarke made him if it meant a prolonged period in her presence.”

 

“Especially in a bed,” Murphy jumped in. 

 

“You’re all hilarious,” Clarke told them. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

 

“Have fun,” Miller told them and shot a wink at him. 

 

Octavia gagged and pretended to throw up all over Jasper. 

 

He really did love his friends sometimes, even when they being especially _them_. 

 

“They are terrible,” she said as they made their way to her room. 

 

“I know,” he agreed, “we need better friends.”

 

She grinned at that. “We, huh?”

 

He blushed a little, but she laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“ _We_ can look for better friends once we’re back in the States,” and she opened the door to her room and led him inside. 

 

Everyone had insisted she take the master suite, though she had tried to fight against it. With so many against one, she’d eventually had to give in. He had thought his room was nice, but really, it had nothing on Clarke’s. 

 

“You’ve been hiding this from us for a reason,” he said, looking around the large room. 

 

There was a full bathroom all to herself, which included a tub, he noted. The bed was massive, easily king-sized, if not bigger. One of the walls was practically all windows, looking out at the back of the house that included the pool and deck and sprawling trees that led to the beach. 

 

“Not on purpose, or anything,” she insisted. 

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Whatever. Now, are you gonna stare at the room some more or are you going to kiss me?” She asked.

 

He didn’t need her to repeat it. 

 

They were too far away, and then, they were closer, and then they were kissing. 

 

She backed him up against the bed and then pushed him down so he was sitting on it, and she nearly melted into his lap. 

 

It was intoxicating, kissing Clarke, _holding_ her, being close enough he could feel the steady beat of her heart. He never wanted it to end. 

 

She was trying to get his shirt off, but he knew he was distracting her with his hands running up and down her spine, the way they landed on her hips and pulled her even closer, so they were pressed up against one another. 

 

After a minute, she gave up on his shirt and pulled away just enough so she could rid herself of her own. The loss of contact didn’t last long, as she practically dove into another searing kiss and tangled her hands in his hair. He was starting to think she might’ve had a thing for his hair, and the thought sent jolts through his veins. 

 

It would've been so easy to give in to his desires, to let her take control and do as she wanted with him. But they couldn’t, not when things were so delicate between them. He couldn’t decide if it was better or worse, already knowing what it was like to be with her. 

 

Regardless, he knew stopping them would be a good thing for them, especially after she’d said those miraculous words on the beach. So, slowly, so as to not startle her or tear her away too quickly, he stopped their frantic movements. 

 

“Is something wrong?” She asked, heaving a little from the lack of oxygen. 

 

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he tried to reassure her. 

 

“Then why’d you stop?” And there was a glint in her eye that damn near killed him.

 

“I don’t think we should do this again,” at that, her face almost crumpled into confusion and sadness, so he quickly added, “I want to, believe me, I do. More than almost anything.”

 

“But?” And he hated how her voice sounded, but he was doing his best to do this right, to do what he thought was best for her. 

 

“I think we should wait to have sex again. Not too long,” and she grinned a little at that, “but...I want you to feel safe and comfortable and...We started with it, and that didn’t work out so well. It’s not that I don’t think you mean what you said, or that I think you’ll change your mind. I know you’re sure, but I also know you’re still scared shitless.”

 

“Maybe just a little,” she confessed, and it meant everything that she felt comfortable enough to do so. 

 

“When we’re together again, I want it to be when you’re feeling more secure about us. It doesn’t mean that all of the fear has to be gone. The most important thing is that you’re feeling good about us. I’d rather deal with waiting for a while than risk messing this up.” 

 

He could only hope she understood that he wasn’t trying to distance them, he was trying to bridge the gap of fear and loneliness and distrust that had opened up between them. 

 

“You may have a good argument…” She trailed off. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it, though, right?”

 

“God, no,” he told her. 

 

She huffed out a laugh and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

 

“I guess I should probably put my shirt back on, huh?”

 

“Please,” he almost pleaded, “my self-control only goes so far.”

 

At that, she really laughed and extracted herself from his lap. Picking up her shirt, she pulled it back on. 

 

“Well,” she stated, “what do we do now?”

 

“We could actually watch _Bachelor in Paradise_?”

 

She snorted. 

 

“I’m serious,” he protested, “I think it’s growing on me.”

 

He leaned back against the pillows on the bed and patted the space next to him.

 

“Right. It’s the _show_ that’s growing on you,” and she shook her head but retrieved her laptop and got in next to him. 

 

When the episode started playing she tucked herself into his side. 

 

“Do these restrictions about our sex life include you putting your arm around me?” She asked. 

 

He chuckled a little. “I think I can overrule it, just this once.”

 

“Good,” she replied and snuggled in even more, “because I was gonna take you to court over that one.”

 

They watched the rest of the episode like that, and when she asked if they could watch another, he was helpless to deny her. 

 

Once that one was done though, she could hardly keep her eyes open, so he slid the laptop onto the nightstand and moved to get out of the bed.

 

“Wait,” she said, stopping him, “do you think...I mean, could you stay? There’s nothing in these rules of yours against just sleeping is there?”

 

He considered it for a moment. On one hand, the last thing he wanted was to possibly wreck a good thing they’d established but on the other...He really wanted to stay. In the end, he gave in. 

 

“I think we can make it work,” he relented. 

 

She brightened at that, a warm smile spreading across her face. 

 

“Okay, I’ll get changed and brush my teeth, and you do the same in your room. That way we won’t be tempted.” She wiggled her eyebrows at that. 

 

He laughed a little but knew that she actually had a point. 

 

Though they couldn’t have been apart for more than five minutes or so, it felt like an eternity. Now that he knew she loved him, was ready to let herself love him, if albeit slowly, he wanted to be with her. As much as he wanted to sleep with her too, just being around her was enough. 

 

They’d crashed on the couch together before or had passed out on Jasper’s futon in college at parties, but they’d only actually slept in the same bed, touching one another the way he’d always longed to, once, after they’d been together. The thought of getting to be close to her like that again, when he’d been afraid he’d blown it the first time and never would again, was almost better than any thought of having sex with her. Almost. He was still a guy, after all. 

 

As they’d said to one another, she was already changed when he knocked on her door. 

 

“Really, aren’t we beyond knocking?”

 

“Just taking precautions,” he told her. 

 

She bit her lip. “Are we really sure about this no boning thing?”

 

Her pajamas were standard shorts and t-shirt, but they showed off just enough leg that had him second-guessing his decision. 

 

“Yes, because we’re mature adults that understand our basic urges must come second,” he assured her and tried not to check out too much. 

 

She stifled a yawn, “well, then, let’s get our sleepover started already. I’m exhausted.”

 

“Aw,” he said, “I thought we were gonna braid each other’s hair first.”

 

“Don’t tempt me.”

 

 She smirked and got into the bed. He followed suit, getting under the thin duvet on the other side. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until his head landed on the pillow. 

 

“‘Night, Bell,” she said, her eyes slowly closing. 

 

She had only called him that a handful of times over the years, but this time it felt so different somehow. As if it wasn’t just a nickname, but her telling him something he couldn’t even name the feeling it evoked. 

 

They weren’t so close that they were pressed up against one another, but still enough that he could hear the steadiness of her breaths as she drifted off to sleep. 

 

Before either of them fully passed out though, she curled into his side, and even though he knew it’d probably be asleep in the morning, he wound his hand around her waist to bring her against his chest. 

 

He was lulled to sleep by the sound of breathing, her shifting slightly in the bed to get comfortable, and he didn’t think there would ever be something better to fall asleep to. 

* * *

Murphy had really ruined it all. He almost had everything he’d wanted with Raven, with whom he had loved for over a year now, and then he’d gone and destroyed any chance of it.

 

Harper and Monty’s news made him happy for a short time, let him forget just how badly he’d messed up, but eventually, everyone made their way to their rooms. In his bed, there was nothing to distract him from his reality. He tossed and turned, unable to deal with the truth: that he almost had fucking everything, and then he’d lost it because of his own need to ensure he wasn’t hurt later on. 

 

There wasn’t even a guarantee that he would’ve been, he realized. What he’d done, it’d been pessimistic. Worse than that. It’d been throwing in the towel and submitting because that was the simple thing, or at least, that was what he’d told himself during his talk with Raven earlier.

 

But the easiest thing, the simplest one, had been falling in love with her. When it had hurt, when he was pissed at her, even when he’d wished it had never happened. 

 

He had never been so wrong in his entire life. 

 

Once he let himself think it, _feel_ it, he couldn’t wait another moment. He got out of bed, and knew, she would be pissed as hell when he woke her up but hoped she’d be okay with it once he got out what he needed to say. 

 

Flinging open his door, he was ready to do something dramatic, like run to her room, though it was only down the hall from his. He was trying to get his thoughts together enough that they would make sense. That was when he collided with Raven. 

 

“Fuck,” she exclaimed, as they literally bumped into one another, at the same time he got out a “shit, oh hell.”

 

They both stumbled back a step, regaining their composure. 

 

“Raven?” He was a little bit in shock, both from the collision and the fact that she was here, outside his door.

 

For what reason, he couldn’t imagine. 

 

“Not, it’s Rasputin,” she shot back. 

 

He grinned. “Thank god, I thought you’d been killed.”

 

She played along, “yeah, well, you should’ve known better than to think attempt number seventy-five would work.”

 

There was a little bit of an awkward pause, and then they both started to speak at the same time. 

 

“You first,” she offered, 

 

“No, um, you go.”

 

“Really—” but she cut herself off, “you know what? Fine. I will.”

 

He smiled a little when she didn’t say anything else for a minute. “Any day now would be great.”

 

“Fuck you,” but she took a breath and spat out her words so fast he almost didn’t hear everything she had to say, “I love you, you idiot. I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can admit to myself, for longer than I actually know because I try to figure it out now, and your dumbass seems to just always be there,” she took a shaky breath, “and half of me still thinks this is the stupidest thing either one of us could do, but we owe it to ourselves to do it. We _need_ to—and maybe it’ll last forever or go down in flames, but I want you, Murphy, okay? I don’t care that you’re scared or you fucked up. Because I am too, and I did in the past, and you were able to see past that,” she swallowed thickly before continuing, “you’re my best friend, I’m pretty sure, and I don’t want to regret this. I don’t like having any kind of regrets, but this one would be the worst. So, before you say anything rational or thinking how disastrous this could end, please, _please,_ just...Don’t.”

 

He was pretty sure he blacked out for a moment after she was done. 

 

She was breathing kind of weird, probably from the sheer number of words she had just put between them, and she looked like she wanted to add more, but that she also was waiting for his response. 

 

He didn’t wait to respond for long. 

 

His lips practically slammed into hers, and he took in her surprise for a moment before she wrapped her arms around his neck and responded with slanting her lips against his. Like their kisses before, this one was filled with heat, like a fight, but there was something else to it now, too. An understanding of some kind. A reassurance that hadn’t been there before. No hesitation, no second-guessing or believing that they needed to hold back to protect themselves from the other. This time, they were all in. 

 

They broke apart for air for a second, and Raven took the opportunity to shove him back into his room. With one hand on his chest, she used the other to fling the door closed. It shut with a bang, and they snickered as they went in for another kiss, drifting closer and closer to the bed. 

 

“Wait,” he said.

 

“Murphy, I swear—”

 

“Did you quote a Taylor Swift song to me during your big romantic speech?” He asked, half laughing at the realization. 

 

“Um…” She trailed off. “Maybe?”

 

“God, I love you,” he replied. 

 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more brilliant smile. 

 

“I knew it,” she was triumphant. 

 

Instead of firing a snarky reply back, he kissed her again. They lost themselves in a mix of tongue and teeth and trying to get as close as possible while they were both standing. 

 

“You have way too many clothes on,” he muttered against her mouth. 

 

She responded by whipping off her tank top and dropping it to the ground. Since she hadn’t been wearing a bra, she was now bare from the waist up. His mouth went dry. God, he _really_ loved this woman. When she noticed how he was looking at her, probably like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen (because she definitely was), she flushed. 

 

“Your turn.” 

 

Once he was out of his t-shirt, they melded together again. They had reached the bed, and before Murphy could even think clearly about what she was doing, he was sprawled out on the bed, and she was on top of him. 

 

“Off,” she commanded, tugging on his boxers. 

 

While he did away with them, she got out of her shorts and underwear all at once. 

 

They came together again, this time with no barriers between them, and it didn’t feel like it was just the clothes that they had shed. There was something new to these kisses and touches they exchanged. 

 

Just as wanting, craving, really, but there were emotions behind them. Acceptance of the fear they both felt. Mutual dedication to making this work, however that would be. And as much as he felt like a goddamn sap to admit it: love. There was so much of it in every brush of lips or the way their hands roamed over the other’s body.

 

They switched positions, and she was under him. He moved down her body, pressing his mouth everywhere he thought could get a reaction out of her. For now, he was just learning her body, what she liked, what she didn’t. It helped she had no qualms about telling him exactly what she wanted. 

 

He got in between her legs, leaving behind little bites and kisses along the curve of her breasts, her stomach, the indents of her hips. Finally, the inside of her thighs. Kisses that seemed to drive her crazy, and made him want to elicit every kind of sound she could make from her lips. Before he could start in earnest though, she tugged on his hair. He sat back on his heels. 

 

“Too much?” He asked, worried that it hadn’t been going as good for as it was for him. 

 

She shook her head. 

 

“Later,” she said, “I want your dick right now.”

 

If that didn’t set everyone one of his senses on fire, he didn’t know if anything ever would. 

 

There was no one on this planet quite like Raven Reyes, and as much as he knew that this, what they were doing, could possibly be the biggest mistake either one of them could make, they were hurtling towards it with the other. Fuck fear, he’d rather fuck her. 

 

“Condom,” she said, though it was more like a demand than a question. 

 

“One second,” and he ran a hand up her side and placed a lingering kiss on her lips before he got up from the bed and grabbed a condom from his wallet. 

 

“Were you expecting to get laid?” She asked. 

 

He snorted. “What can I say? I was feeling pretty good about you. Hell, I was surprised you didn’t jump me that night at your place, even with the head injury.”

 

She giggled, something that he would’ve made fun of her for, in any other circumstance, but hell, if it wasn’t one of the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. 

 

“I totally would’ve,” she replied, “but you kept checking me for concussion eyes any time I got close to you.”

 

He climbed back onto the bed, and she went back to being on top of him which he didn’t mind. He liked it that way, too. 

 

“Sure, blame me,” but he only got half of the words out before they turned into a mumble because she had placed her lips over his again. 

 

This kiss was more tender, but there was a renewed urgency to it. Like they could never get enough of each other. He didn’t know how she felt, but he knew it was true for him. She pressed her hips down so his dick just brushed against her entrance, and he slung an arm around the back of her hips to keep her in place, if only for a moment longer.

 

“Fuck,” she gasped out. 

 

“Yeah, we should do that probably,” he couldn’t help by reply. 

 

She rolled her eyes but smirked down at him. 

 

“I hate your mouth.”

 

“No, you don’t,” and to prove his point, he dragged her into an intense, but brief, kiss. 

 

It was a little awkward to get the angle right in a way that was comfortable for her leg, but he reassured her with barely-there kisses while she made the adjustment. 

 

“That okay?” He asked as he used one of his hands to support it while she remained on top of him. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” she blushed a little, “this isn’t very sexy is it?”

 

He squeezed her leg, light enough to not hurt, but enough that she felt its comfort. 

 

“I don’t know what you mean?” He grinned. “This is the sexiest experience of my life.”

 

There was still some slight hesitation on her face, but he winked, which seemed to finally put her at ease, and she was laughing as she guided him into her. 

 

If he thought to kiss her was amazing, if to touch her sent jolts through every nerve ending he had, then fucking her in earnest threatened to actually knock him out with every movement of her hips against his. 

 

Once they found their rhythm, one that she could move easily to without bothering her leg or putting unwanted strain on it, it was all over for him. There was nothing so good in this world, he thought in a daze as her hips pressed down onto him. 

 

“You’re so good, babe,” he told her, “god, so nice and tight.”

 

She might’ve said she hated his mouth, but apparently, that did not extend to the things he said to her while inside her. 

 

“You feel so fucking amazing,” she said, “god, you fill me up like no else has. Murphy, right there,” and she made this sort of high-pitched gasp that had him jerking his hips with a bit more force. “Fuck, yes, don’t stop.”

 

He should’ve known she’d be a talker during sex. Not that he even had the capacity to form a single complaint at the moment. Not that he was sure if he’d ever be able to complain about anything, ever, after this. 

 

“Or what?” He managed to get out. “What’ll you do if I stop?”

 

“I swear to fucking god I’ll—” But she didn’t even finish the thought because she went over the edge, calling out his name riding him as she chased it. 

 

“That’s it,” he almost cooed, “just like that.”

 

He didn’t plan on that being her only one for the night, but he had to admit, it wasn’t a bad first go of it. Maybe it wasn’t humble, but that had never been something he thought served him well in bed. 

 

She started to move against him after a minute, and he knew if she kept it up then he would come before he wanted. Before he had the chance to make her come again before he had. 

 

Carefully, so as to let her continue her come down and without disturbing their slow movements, he flipped her onto her back. 

 

He took a moment to tuck her leg into a comfortable position before he began moving again, chasing the feeling of getting an even deeper fit. The first thrust in the new position brought out moans from them both. Loud ones. 

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Murphy, yes,” she gasped. 

 

“Who’ve you been fucking, babe? God, they haven’t been taking care of you, have they? Have you even been taking care of yourself?” His tone was taunting, and he kind of loved it, that they could make fun of one another even while they had sex. 

 

“Ass.”

 

“I think the word you’re looking for is God,” he replied. 

 

She laughed so breathlessly he felt it more than he heard it. 

 

With each movement of their hips, her nails dug into his arms more, hard enough that there might be a hard mark there in the morning. His own hands were digging into her hips, using them to make the fit even better, to chase a high they were both barreling towards but that he was intent on pushing her over first. 

 

Screw it, he thought, he wouldn’t want to hide that _this_ had happened for anything. If she’d let him, he’d write it out in skywriting, take out billboards, whatever he could think of, just as long as the people knew that he’d been lucky enough to have this.

 

He hoped it would be more than just this once, but he was feeling pretty hopeful about that at the moment. 

 

Still using one hand to hold her leg steady, he snaked around one between her legs, setting his fingers onto the bed of nerves there. When she practically jerked at the touch, he smirked. 

 

“Fuck,” she almost shouted, pressing herself up against where his fingers made contact. 

 

“Come on,” he urged her, “just let go, babe, god. I know you want to.”

 

It only took a half a dozen more thrusts before she was, clinging to him as she went over the edge again and stuttered against where his fingers were still pressed against her. 

 

He fell apart soon after, burying his head into her neck and telling her a shit ton of nonsense that he wasn’t sure were even words. Just a random assortment of noises and moans and murmurs of how fucking good she felt and how he never wanted this to end and other mushy crap he never would’ve said if he hadn’t been falling apart inside her. He knew she knew that, too, so even as he did it, she teased him. 

 

“You should write Valentine’s Day cards,” she said around a smirk. 

 

She still was holding onto him, not yet finished coming down, but she jerked her hips against his regardless as he relaxed following his own high. 

 

It was just about one of the best orgasms in existence. 

 

Not that he was surprised in the slightest. They were both over-achievers. 

 

He peppered kisses on her cheeks, her collarbone, anywhere she’d let him reach. Eventually, she was laughing so hard, she accidentally flung him off her, and he landed with a soft thud on the other side of the bed. At that, they both snickered as if there was some unspoken joke between them. 

 

But wasn’t there?

 

He reached across the space that was between them without thinking about it and stroked her cheek. 

 

“Damn,” he muttered, pulling it away, clicking his tongue against his teeth, “no tears. I thought for sure that the second one would’ve made you cry.”

 

She snorted out a giggle, running a hand across her forehead. She was so fucking beautiful, he didn’t even know how any of this was real. He still wasn’t sure that it was, not completely. 

 

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

 

He scoffed.

 

“I guess I still love you though,” and she rolled her eyes. 

 

“You fucking better,” he warned, “I swear if all of that hard work on my end was for nothing…”

 

“Your hard work!” She shook her head. “I’d say it was a team effort, at _least_.”

 

“Fine, I’ll give you that.”

 

“Good,” she said, and then held up a fist. “Go, team?”

 

Fuck it. He bumped it. “Go, team.”

 

Fully, for the first time since all of this had started—since he had first realized what he felt for her when he and Emori ended—he felt like this might actually work out. Sure, it wasn’t going to be perfect. They were far too fucked up for that to be a possibility, but there was a chance. Maybe not even much of one, but he would fight for hell for it. For her. Because as much as they’d both put each other through hell, he knew...No, he felt it. She was it for him. 

 

Besides, they really did make a good team. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it ❤︎
> 
> check out my [ writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	23. We're Dancing in this World Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the last day of the trip in mexico! we've got the aftermath of last chapter's events in this one, and it picks up the next morning and also features some dancing bellarke content. 
> 
> I know I sound like a broken record at this point, but I am so amazed by the lovely things you all have said or the ways you've helped me get this story to this point. as we wrap up the story, it has been such an unforgettable experience and I'm so thankful.

Murphy was roused awake by a naked Raven Reyes bounding on top of him. For someone that was usually groggy in the morning, she sure had a lot of energy for a person that had spent half the night having sex. After their first round, they’d gone for another and hadn’t fallen asleep until late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. He’d figured he had tired her out just a little bit more, and honestly, his pride was just the tiniest bit wounded at the thought. 

 

Knowing her and the delight she got from making him want to bury his head even deeper into the pillow, the move shouldn’t have surprised him, and yet, he wasn’t at all prepared. 

 

“Has the apocalypse finally started, because I hope so, if only so that I don’t have to deal with you anymore,” he said. 

 

She chuckled and landed back on her side of the bed with a thud, bouncing up a little. She was tangled up in the sheets, the duvet pushed at the end of the bed. 

 

“Not even close. Plus, hate to break it to you, but you wouldn’t make it one day in the apocalypse without me.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” but he knew she was right. 

 

Hell, he didn’t think he’d make it one day without her sans apocalypse. As much as he hated to admit that he relied on someone so completely, that he needed them in his life in order to insure his happiness. He was beyond denial though. There was no room for it anymore when it came to her, not after last night. 

 

It had been amazing, far beyond anything he could’ve conjured up in his mind (which, of course, being a gentleman, he definitely hadn’t). They’d fit together so much better than he’d thought possible. Sure, there had been things to figure out, but somehow, it was never as dreadfully awkward as it had been with others in the past. It was just so easy with her, even the areas where there should’ve been tension, he had found none. He’d thought he would’ve felt all the pressure in the world, but in reality, there had never been fewer expectations placed on sex. 

 

While he’d had some pretty amazing boning in the past, and nothing they’d done last night was really revolutionary, it was one of the best nights of his life. No doubt about it. As sappy and pathetic as it sounded, and even though he hated the part of himself that sought to think that way about it. 

 

She twisted around in the sheet, pulling it against her chest.

 

“So…” She trailed off. 

 

Suddenly, he was hit with the awkward and all-consuming nature of The Morning After. Usually, he was the kind to cut and run. He and Emori had never been the kind to discuss or even make a big deal out of it, especially after the first time. It had been different, too. They hadn’t started out already loving one another. 

 

With Raven, it couldn’t have been more serious. Both of them had said those three dreaded words before they’d even seen one another naked. There had been so much build-up. It felt like they _had_ to talk about it. As if it was a box they had to check off in their steps to having something that resembled a real relationship. 

 

“Yeah?” He asked, going with the easy way out than actually admitting the slight discomfort that had settled in between them. 

 

“Last night…” 

 

She was just as hesitant to acknowledge the gravity of it, what it meant to both of them. While it was great, this new thing between them, it was also frail and partial to explosive destruction. They had to tread carefully, but they also had to move forward if they wanted any chance of not completely ruining what they’d worked so hard to get. 

 

“Is this the part where we do the post-sex debrief?” 

 

He decided to lean into the awkwardness, to let himself be in control of it instead of the other way around. Maybe if they both acknowledged it, then it wouldn’t be so goddamn scary. 

 

The question made her huff, but she replied, “I think so?” She hid her face into the pillow. “God, I don’t know? I mean, I want this to be easy, you know?” She smirked. “Last night certainly was,” he smiled a little at that, he couldn’t have stopped it if he wanted to, “but I’m not good at this stuff. The real talking blah blah blah feelings stuff, you know?”

 

He turned serious once more and nodded. “Me neither.”

 

“Oh, good,” she deadpanned, “so this should be no problem for the two of us.”

 

“Raven, I know this is…Not easy, but we already did the major thing, right? The rest should fall into place, shouldn’t it?”

 

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t really know. Me and Shaw were never that serious, even though we were together for so long, and I knew Finn my whole life. There wasn’t much to unpack, with either of those two,” she perked up, “how about you and Emori?”

 

He frowned. “Sorry. No help, there. We weren’t the ‘decompressing’ type.” She looked a little defeated at that, so he added, “we can figure this out though, I know we can. We just have to, as cliched as it sounds and while I hate to admit it, talk about it.”

 

“I know...I guess I am a little scared, still,” she quickly went on, “not that I regret last night. Believe me, I definitely don’t. But—”

 

“I get it,” he assured her. “It’s a lot all at once. We kind of just jumped right into the deep end.”

 

“How about the ocean,” she huffed. “Without a life jacket. In shark-invested waters.”

 

He found some kind of courage to go on, “and neither one of us is really great this kind of thing, but I do know that you can lean on me. If you’re freaked out about something, just tell me, alright?”

 

“I will,” she replied, “if you do the same for me.”

 

“Definitely, but if I’m losing my shit, you’ll probably be the first to know regardless.”

 

That made them both laugh a little, and while the tension was still there, it had definitely subsided a little.

 

“So…” He trailed off.

 

“Last night…” She mirrored his repeating of their earlier phrases. 

 

Then they both started to speak at the same time, so he couldn’t make out what she’d intended to say.

 

“You first,” she offered.

 

“It was fucking everything, Raven, okay? And believe me, no one is more afraid about that than me. But it was...It was brilliant, you know?”

 

“I do,” she swallowed, “and it was everything for me, too. But…”

 

And he had never felt doubt slip in so quickly. 

 

“I’m starving,” she finished. 

 

He kicked her thigh under the sheets. 

 

“I hate you,” he told her.

 

“No, you don’t,” she said, smug, tugging him close so they could kiss. 

 

“Maybe a little,” and he felt her laugh against his mouth. 

 

“Not even close.” 

 

They changed and headed downstairs, and the room practically went silent as they did. One look at everyone’s faces and he could tell they all knew. If it had been anyone else, it would’ve been a bit embarrassing. _Fuck_ , he thought. There was only one way they’d all known what he and Raven had done last night.  

 

They’d all _heard_ them. 

 

Jasper actually blushed when he made eye contact with Raven and Miller was smirking into his orange juice. 

 

“We get it,” Raven said when all everyone had done was stare or try to avoid looking at them for a couple of minutes, “we’re loud. Whatever. Sorry that our sex life is already better than all of yours put together.”

 

God, he _really_ loved her. 

 

He grinned, flashing his teeth. 

 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you guys,” which made Clarke snort. “I’m sorry we all can’t be quite as a fucking mouse while we f—”

 

But was cut off by Bellamy saying, “pretty sure you two were the only ones who were intent on keeping everyone up last night.”

 

“Is that so?” Raven asked. 

 

“Pity,” he added, as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “we would’ve loved some competition.”

 

“Competition could’ve been fun,” Raven agreed. 

 

“You’re hilarious,” Clarke’s tone was dry. 

 

It was then that he realized no one had any kind of food before them. 

 

“Were you expecting me to cook breakfast for you after sassing me?” He asked. 

 

Jasper was the only one that looked remotely sheepish. 

 

“Duh,” Emori replied. 

 

“It seemed cruel to make Monty cook, given that we’re supposed to be celebrating him and Harper,” Jackson added. 

 

“Plus,” Clarke said, “you’re so good at making breakfast.”

 

“And you definitely worked up an appetite,” Octavia remarked, earning a look from Lincoln. “What?” She waved a hand at him and Raven. “Like you guys weren’t thinking the same thing.” No one had a real reply to that, and she smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

 

Raven crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

“He’s not your own personal chef, you know. It is possible for the rest of you to fend for yourselves,” after a moment, she added, “well, not you, Clarke. But everyone else, yes.”

 

“So you don’t want him making us a delicious meal that you’ll enjoy?” Miller challenged.

 

She stuttered a little at that, but finally landed on, “well, I’m different,” and then she looked over at him, “right?”

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, “you’re different.”

 

That made all of them react as if he’d just puked everywhere in front of them. 

 

Octavia shuddered. Jasper’s eyes went a little wide and gagged. Miller made a face as if he’d just smelt something vile. Even Harper looked a little disturbed by the exchange.

 

“And you call us dorks?” Bellamy laughed. 

 

“Takes one to know one,” Clarke told him, “though it could be fun if they’re even sappier than us.”

 

“Not possible,” Murphy assured them, “that’s one area we can’t even compete with you in.”

 

“Whatever,” she shot back, “I bet you cried last night.”

 

“Not even close,” Raven defended him, and it felt nice. “We fist-bumped.”

 

If he thought them being sappy freaked their friends out, them just being themselves made everyone look as if they should be locked up somewhere. 

 

“You…” Monty started.

 

“Fist bumped?” Jasper finished. “Guys, not even _I_ do that.”

 

“Whatever,” Raven dismissed. “Sorry, we’re cooler and chiller and better than you in every possible way.”

 

He didn’t say it, because he was pretty sure it would disgust everyone even more, but he really liked her use of _we_. 

 

“If we say that you are, will Murphy start on breakfast?” Miller asked. 

 

Jasper nodded enthusiastically at that. 

 

“Fine,” he decided.

 

They all echoed a chorus of how they were cooler, chiller, and better than them in every possible way. He didn’t believe them for a second, but it was nice to hear. So, he relented. 

 

“Pushover,” Raven called him around a smirk. 

 

“And you can’t get enough of it,” he shot back. 

 

“We’ll see. Maybe I’ll be more willing to admit it after you feed me.”

 

It was basically one of the best morning afters he’d ever experienced, even with the awkward part. 

* * *

It was their last night in Mexico, and Clarke wanted to make it count. Perhaps not in the way she wanted, which involved her and Bellamy and very little clothes, but she knew that it was for the best. Or at least, she was willing to try and see if it was for the best since he was convinced that it was, but she wasn’t so sure. Of course, that probably had to do more with the fact that she was aching to have him again than any other rational thought. 

 

There might’ve also been a small part of her that wanted to show off what she and Bellamy could do compared to Murphy and Raven, the topic of whom was anyone could talk about. She was a bit competitive. 

 

While she knew deep down that Bellamy was right for them to wait, she was struggling with it. Now that she had let herself feel everything she did for him, she wanted him all the time. It was relentless, and she felt a little ridiculous. Like a teenager and not a grown woman. 

 

She didn’t know how he was fairing, how he was possibly dealing with it. While she was the one that needed the time and the space to feel comfortable with him, he already did with her, so the constraints on their relationship must’ve been even more difficult for him, right? Regardless, he hadn’t made her feel pressured or as if he was waiting for something for them to sleep together again. He was just being patient, as he’d promised. She did wonder how anyone could have that kind of restraint, especially when she knew how good it had been between them the first time. 

 

Clarke had asked him about it that morning, jumping right in without thinking too much about it. 

 

“How are you this in control? I mean,” she’d felt herself flush a little, “ _I’m_ barely holding in my need to jump you, and I’m the one that’s scared.”

 

He’d looked a little taken aback for a moment before replying, “I honestly don’t know. I just know I fucked it up before by not having a handle on my immediate emotions, and I know if we’re gonna make this work, I have to find some way to tamper those.”

 

She hadn’t been fully convinced, and he’d definitely sensed it because he’d added, “don’t think I’m not losing my mind a little about it though, because I definitely am.”

 

Then he’d offered her this warm smile, and she known he’d meant every word. 

 

Just because they had to abide by certain rules didn’t mean that they couldn’t hang out though, couldn’t have a good time with one another and just be together. Maybe it wasn’t everything she wanted at the moment, but it had to be enough for now. Besides, the anticipation building kind of made things more exciting. 

 

She had decided to take him out, and he didn’t know where they were going, only that she’d told him that it would be fun. Hopefully, she wasn’t a complete failure, and it would be, too. While she had gone on her fair share of them, she wasn’t exactly known for her skills in planning dates. He had been so patient with her though, and she wanted to do something fun, just the two of them. 

 

“You’re really gonna keep this a surprise?” He asked as they made their way down the street from the house. 

 

Her cheeks were still a little pink for the hoots and hollers and everyone else teasing them for going out. 

 

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” she replied. 

 

All she’d told him was to dress up, just a bit. He was wearing a white button rolled up at the sleeves that was far too distracting. Though she kind of hoped he felt the same. Her dress was red, simple and cut off just above the knee. It was comfortable, and she could move in it, but she still felt more feminine in it than her usual tank tops or t-shirts and jeans. It also was low cut enough that it showed the right amount of cleavage that he’d smirked a little when she’d met him in the main living space of the house. 

 

“Alright, I trust you.”

 

She could tell from the way that he said it that he really did, with more than just their evening plans. 

 

When they got to their destination, she had to tug on his hand to keep him from pulling away.

 

“Clarke, I really don’t know about this,” he protested but stopped trying to walk away.

 

“It’s fun!” 

 

She was laughing at his reaction, she couldn’t help it. It was sort of adorable.

 

“But this,” and he waved a hand at the bar in front of them. 

 

There was a live band she could hear and see due to the wide-open windows and doors that gave them a peek inside to the lights and big open space for dancing. There was a big intricately decorated sign that read in Spanish and English underneath it: _Live Music and Dancing!_

 

The music was fast, a beat she couldn’t have copied if she tried, and made her want to move, even though they hadn’t even entered the bar yet. 

 

“Come on,” she mused while linking their fingers together, “I promise if you hate it after the first song we can leave and I’ll buy you a giant mojito for your troubles.”

 

He gave in rather easily, more so than she’d thought when the idea had first come to her while she, Emori, and Jasper had been out shopping earlier and spotted the bar. While she knew he might be tentative towards the concept, she was hoping she’d be able to win him over. If not with her obvious charm, then maybe just a bit of flirting and promises of making out later. 

 

“A giant one, right?” He clarified.

 

She laughed but nodded. 

 

“Fuck me,” he sighed. 

 

“I would,” she said, “but we have a rule about that.”

 

He rolled his eyes and grinned. “You’re such a dork.”

 

“You love it.”

 

She didn’t wait for a reply, because she already knew his. Instead, she pulled him into the bar. Once inside, the music was even louder and more intense. 

 

“Let’s get a drink, first, and then I’ll force you to dance,” she told him, and he looked rather relieved that she wouldn’t make him do it completely sober. 

 

Clarke got one of the night’s specials, a drink with some tequila in it while he got a margarita. 

 

She gave him a look and he replied, “What? I can be devastatingly masculine and still enjoy a cocktail,” to which she just smirked. 

 

“I know you can.”

 

There was some heat to her tone that she hadn’t even noticed had snuck in until he got a glint in his eye at the sound of it. He shook his head though. 

 

“You’re making this very difficult on me,” he said as their drinks arrived. 

 

She sipped innocently at her glass. 

 

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”

 

“ _Clarke_ ,” he warned. 

 

“Fine, fine,” she waved a hand, “I will not flirt with you under any circumstances, even as we’re dancing to hot Latin music. How’s that?”

 

He gave her an unimpressed look and she flashed him a smile that was practically all teeth. 

 

Luckily for her, his avoidance of her flirting meant that he downed his drink much faster than normal. She followed suit and then hopped off the barstool. 

 

“Ready?” She asked, holding out a hand. 

 

“Not even close,” but he took her hand in his own anyways. 

 

It took him a little bit to get some moves going that didn’t have her giggling, a little giddy from the drink, and also for her to let the beat of the music relax her enough that she didn’t feel so self-conscious. Eventually, though, they found the right timing and could match the other’s pace with ease. 

 

They moved closer together, him tugging her close so that his hands rested on her waist, and she looped her arms around his neck. Looking up at him through her lashes, she laughed a little at his pout, clearly not at all pleased with their deal at the moment, though they knew it was the smartest move. She leaned up and kissed it away. While it was meant to be brief, and chaste, it quickly turned languid and heavy, one of her hands reaching to tug him down for a better angle. They gasped as they parted.

 

“We should probably get back to the dancing part now,” he suggested, “before they kick us out for just making out in their establishment.”

 

Clarke was pleased with her ability to reply with at least some kind of composure, “can’t imagine why they’d have a problem with _that._ ”

 

She had danced around Bellamy before, had danced closely beside him certainly, but she couldn’t remember ever dancing _with_ him. Once she experienced it, she was sure she would’ve remembered. 

 

Bellamy danced like he had sex. All slow and built-up tension, but somehow still fast-paced to the music that was roaring in her ears. Her senses heightened as they found their rhythm. She knew she wasn’t the only one affected, could feel it in his pulse and the way his hands gripped at the fabric of her dress. 

 

Memories of him dancing with Echo at Anya’s party all those months ago came back. She flushed at the thought that she was with him like that. When before she never could’ve imagined it, she was confident in every movement the two of them made. They fit together so well, it was hard to think there had ever been a time when they hadn’t. 

 

He matched the sway of her hips with his own, pulling her closer so she was flushed against him. The look in his eye threatened to set her ablaze, so she returned with one of her own that had him swallowing thickly. 

 

“You really stuck to your whole ‘no flirting’ promise,” and she could tell that he was trying for a dry tone but he wasn’t able to quite manage it. 

 

“This doesn’t count,” she argued, her own voice uneven, “we’re just dancing.”

 

It wasn’t exactly true, but neither one of them wanted to admit it. They knew if they did, the rational parts of their brains would decide that this was too much considering that they’d known it was best to wait. It would break whatever trance they’d fallen under in one another’s arms. The last thing she wanted was for him to pull away, to lose the thing she craved so much. 

 

“Just dancing?” 

 

She nodded vigorously, which made him laugh, deep in his chest. She slid one hand down from his neck to lay her palm over his heart, tentatively, in case it was too much for either one of them, but he didn’t move to break the contact. 

 

“You sure this is okay, though?” 

 

A more solemn expression of her face, she reached up and kissed him again. This time, it really was as she intended: just a simple brush of the lips. A reassurance. _Yes, I’m okay. It’s you, so I’m okay._ It seemed to say, though she didn’t use any of the actual words. Somehow, she just felt that he would understand, and she could tell that when he started dancing again that he had. 

 

“Did that convince you?” She asked, just to be sure. 

 

He smiled and kissed her again. 

 

They took a break from dancing and had more drinks, this time accompanied also by glasses of water. She’d rolled her eyes when he’d ordered them, but by the time they’d arrived was grateful. It made a piece of her ache with a fondness for how he always was such a caretaker. Not just of her, but their friends, too. Really, Jasper might’ve been joking when he called them mom and dad (at least, she used to think he’d been, but wasn’t so sure anymore) but she couldn’t help but think he made a valid point. 

 

“You okay?” He’d probably noticed she’d been staring, and if it was anyone else, she would’ve been embarrassed. 

 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. 

 

“You sure?”

 

She laughed. “Yeah, I just...Love you.” 

 

The slight bit of fear that still remained whenever she uttered the words, to anyone, really, was extinguished at the way his face lit up. There really wasn’t anything quite like it that even came close. She may have worked with art all day, but it was nothing compared to Bellamy’s smile when she said those words. 

 

They danced for a while more, getting lost in one another and the music. Both of them understood that this kind of heat and intensity would be the only kind for the night, and wanted to make it last as long as possible. This kind of closeness was something they knew they both wanted, but understood couldn’t have at the moment, not if they wanted to make this miraculous thing between them work in the long run. 

 

Eventually, though, they grew tired and Clarke couldn’t hide that her feet had begun to bother her. Bellamy offered to get them a cab, but she insisted on walking. 

 

It was late by the time they started to head back to the house in earnest. They took their time, walking slowly down the streets of closed shops and bars beginning to shut down for the evening. Other couples or groups of young people passed them, chatting happily and letting their laughter ring out clear in the night. A breeze rustled the trees and she drifted along the street in a sort of blissed-out daze with Bellamy by her side.

 

It occurred to her that she may have been a little bit tipsy as she felt like she was gliding a little as they walked. 

 

“You having fun, Princess?” His tone was amused and when she spun around to face him, he was smiling.

 

“You haven’t called me _that_ in forever,” she replied, trying to think of the last time. 

 

“Do you not want me to?” He asked and there was a dash of nerves in his voice. 

 

“No, you can. I guess…”

 

“You can tell me,” he assured her.

 

“I think I might’ve missed it, just a little bit,” she admitted. 

 

“Yeah?” He sounded so amazed, she couldn’t help it, she flounced over to him and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

 

“Yeah,” after a moment she bit her lip and asked, “are we...I mean,” she stuttered out, “we’re together, right? Like…” She trailed off, laughing. “You’re my boyfriend and I’m your girlfriend and all that gross stuff?”

 

He didn’t even wait a beat before he responded, “you want that?”

 

It took some courage, but she found herself able to nod. “Yes, Bellamy, I do.”

 

He brought her closer by tugging her by the waist with one hand while the other reached up and cupped her cheek.

 

“Yeah, Clarke. All that gross stuff, anything you want, okay?”

 

“ _Anything_?” And she wiggled her eyebrows for effect. 

 

He shook his head but didn’t move his hands from where they were holding her steady, close to him. 

 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

 

Smirking, she said, “I’m counting on it.”

 

He reassured her that he was fine if she was to just sleep together again as they reached the house. She took his hand firmly in her own and told him to meet in her room in ten minutes.

 

When she laid down that night and tucked herself into his arms, he drifted off almost immediately, but it took her a little bit longer, her mind clouded over with thoughts that wouldn’t leave her alone. 

 

She loved him so much, she wasn’t sure where to put it all. It seemed too big for her heart, what she felt for him, and saying it would never be enough. Though she knew she had nothing to prove to him, she wanted him to know that, scared as she was, this was what she needed in her life. This, them, made her so happy it made her think that it couldn’t possibly be for her. People didn’t get this kind of happiness, she thought, and it gave her pause, yes, but she also longed to dive into the feeling. If only she could figure out how. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! the next one features some group dynamics as we move forward in Haper's pregnancy and these four dumbs navigating life back in Arkadia ❤︎
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	24. Are We in the Clear Yet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back in arkadia in this chapter, and we're beginning to get to the end-I really can't believe it. this one features a small time-jump after mexico and lots of feelings on both sides for these four dumbs.
> 
> as always, thank you thank you thank you for the wonderful response I've gotten. I never imagined my first fic would get this much love, and I am so incredibly grateful to each and every one of you.

Babies required a lot of stuff, apparently. There was a never-ending list of stuff. Lists of things she didn’t even know existed and Harper needed as much of it as she could get. They had been back in Arkadia for almost five weeks and everyone had settled back into their lives. Raven and Bellamy were still living together, but most nights, Murphy was at her place and he was at Clarke’s. Still no sex for them though, apparently. Which, she understood, okay? But wasn’t it getting just a little much? Raven and Murphy, meanwhile, were doing it all the time. She was sore in places she didn’t even know you could be sore from having sex. 

 

In fact, just that morning, she’d woken him up before he had to head into the restaurant and convinced him that they could fit in a quick fuck in the shower. 

 

When she’d proposed it, he’d gotten this glint in his eye that had her practically attacking his mouth with her own. She had always enjoyed the physical part of her relationships, it was much easier for her to deal with than the emotional and it was way more fun, but with Murphy, it was something else. She was insatiable. Not just her, though, as it appeared that he couldn’t get enough of her either. 

 

Bellamy had declared if they ever had sex on their couch again, he was burning it, and she would have to put up the cash for a new one. She wasn’t gonna tell him about the shower. He’d probably make her scrub it down with bleach or something overly dramatic like that. 

 

She knew better than to fire back a retort that he could always have sex on their couch, no problem. While he and Clarke seemed to be in a good place after Mexico, he’d explained that while they both wanted to just bone (again, apparently) he felt it wasn’t the right time yet. 

 

“We talk about it a lot, which helps,” he’d explained one night over dinner. Murphy was at work, which was really the only reason she could think of that he wouldn’t be there. 

 

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ to this,” she’d replied. 

 

“She told me she’s ready, that she feels secure and...Well, stuff you probably don’t want to hear.”

 

“No more than you want to hear about me and Murphy,” she’d nodded, and then, “you don’t believe her?”

 

“It’s not like I think she’s lying or anything. I’m just...I think she might be trying to convince herself of it.”

 

“Why would she do that?” She’d asked.

 

“I can’t really put it into words,” he’d added, “I just...Hell, I don’t want her knowing this okay?”

 

“I swear to secrecy. Bro-to-bro.”

 

He’d cracked a bit of a smile at that before he went on, “I guess I’m just waiting for her to change her mind? Like, I have this wonderful thing with her. Something, as you know, I’ve wanted for years and now it’s happening and I’m losing it a little.”

 

“Does she know that?”

 

He’d swallowed, “a little. As I said, we talk. A lot. Because that’s kind of all we’ve allowed ourselves to do. I haven’t told her everything because I don’t want her to think I’m going to bail. I know I’m not, but she might not yet. And I don’t want her to feel like I’m putting pressure on her or expecting anything from her. The only reason I even put up this boundary between us was so that we could do this right. I feel like shit, not being with her the way I know both of us want to be, but…”

 

“It’s self-preservation, for both of you,” she’d decided. 

 

“I think so.”

 

“And just letting you know, there is no right way. There’s just the way it happens,” she’d clarified, thinking of how strangely she and Murphy’s dynamic had developed. 

 

He’d run a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do about it though. I don’t know how to find the right way for _us_. I thought we were working towards it but...It feels like we’ve stalled out.”

 

“I’m not even going to wait for you to ask for my advice, I’m just going to give it,” she’d told him.

 

She’d been pretty sure she heard him snort a little, but she didn’t let it deter her. 

 

“You’re scared, Bellamy. Probably because you know you fucked up, and at any time, you could again, and she could really walk away this time. And as endearing as it was, I think the camping outside her house only works once. But you won’t tell her you’re and I quote, ‘losing it a little’ because you don’t want her to think you’re being an asshole, which, I’ve seen you be an asshole, and this isn’t it.”

 

He’d sighed. “You may have a point.”

 

“I’ve got more, don’t worry, we haven’t even gotten to the real advice part,” and she’d continued, “you two are crap at communicating. I know you’ve gotten exponentially better, but you have to be honest with her. If there’s anything we’ve learned from this situation, the worst thing we can do is keep secrets from the people we’re closest to. So, as much as it might be intimidating, you have to tell her what you’re feeling, and maybe then you can finally go back to Bang City.”

 

She’d watched as he mulled her words over, considering the helpful, albeit harsh, pieces of understanding about what he and Clarke were going through. 

 

Finally, he’d huffed out, “I hate it when you’re this right.”

 

She’d smirked, but when she stood up to grab another glass of water, patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. 

 

“It may not seem like it, but I really do think you’ve got this. Maybe it’ll be a little bit of a shit show, but you two have navigated worse and come out still in love with one another. You can manage this, too.”

 

Whatever problems they were having, she thought they would figure out. She was just glad she and Murphy didn’t have to deal with that. It was so freaking easy between them. 

 

It was unbelievably awesome. 

 

She really didn’t think anything was the matter with what she and Murphy were doing until she went with Clarke, Emori, Harper, Octavia, and Maya to register stuff for the baby shower. 

 

“Isn’t this kind of sexist,” Emori pointed out, “why can’t the guys do baby registry stuff?”

 

“Because as much as I love Monty,” Harper replied, “I don’t trust him as far as he could throw Jasper to register for the real stuff I’ll need. He’s reading the same parenting books I am, but I’m talking about the _dark stuff_. You know, for when I’m lactating and just out of the hospital?” She went a little pale at the thought. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for the baby but…”

 

“Not looking forward to the giving birth part?” Octavia guessed and she nodded. 

 

“I’ve heard it’s only like the most painful thing you can experience,” Raven added. 

 

“Let’s focus on the positive, though. The baby is going to be adorable, and you two will be amazing,” Maya jumped in, noticing Harper’s beginning panic, for which she felt partially responsible. 

 

As much as she liked them, she wasn’t sure kids were in her future. Not that she and Murphy were anywhere near that stage to even discuss it. Right now, she was just focused on having a good time. Unlike Clarke, who, while not getting any, seemed to have already settled into domestic bliss. They had a specific night a week where they traded off picking an old movie and snuggling on her couch. He made the popcorn while she picked out the candy. The only reason she even knew about this was because Bellamy had told her. Like it was a brag, for fuck’s sake. 

 

They moved on from the best coolers to store breast milk to nursing pillows, all the while updating each other on their lives. 

 

Octavia and Lincoln weren’t talking marriage, even though it’d been years, and she gave off the impression that they might never do it, just because they were happy with where they were. Emori and Anya were getting more serious, much to the amusement of Clarke, who had never thought the latter would get serious about anyone. 

 

To that, Emori had said decidedly, “well, I’m a very special person,” and then smirked. 

 

Maya blushed as they pressed for details about her and Jasper. 

 

“He has many talents that you wouldn’t expect knowing him,” she told them, and left it at that, probably for her own sake, but also everyone else’s. 

 

Raven loved Jasper, but he was like her little brother. She didn’t need to know what he was like in the sack.

 

“How about you, Clarke?” Octavia asked. “But please, spare me the details of my brother’s sex life. I had a big lunch.”

 

“There’s nothing to tell, really,” she replied in a huff. 

 

Everyone looked at her, confused. 

 

Octavia suddenly decided to go and look at teddy bears and other stuffed animals that were at the other end of the store.

 

“He won’t fuck me,” she said, exasperated. “He says that he wants me to feel comfortable and sure in our relationship, but it’s been five weeks since Mexico, and nothing.” She shook her head. “I know he _wants_ to, but it’s like he thinks he has to punish himself or something. Except it feels like he’s punishing me, too.”

 

Raven knew some details, but she’d promised Bellamy she wouldn’t say anything. Hopefully, he would talk to her soon. 

 

Harper chewed on her lip. Clarke noticed the slight discomfort right away and didn’t hesitate. 

 

“What did Monty tell you?”

 

“Nothing...I mean, okay, yeah he told me some stuff, but…” The other trailed off. “Basically, he really does want to just be respectful, but I think he’s nervous you aren’t sure about it yet, and he doesn’t want to push you away like he has in the past.” 

 

“I swear, I’m gonna have to tempt him with lingerie,” Clarke responded, and Raven could already practically see the gears turning in her head.

 

Poor Bellamy, he had no idea what was coming for him. 

 

A few minutes later, Octavia returned, her steps tentative. 

 

“Is it safe now?” 

 

Emori barked out a laugh and assured her that her ears wouldn’t bleed from the topic of conversation anymore. 

 

“Raven, how’re things with Murphy?” Clarke asked, and while she knew it was partly to signal that it was okay to talk about it with everyone, she also thought that she did genuinely care about the two of them. 

 

“Good,” she grinned at the thought of the two of them, “great, really.”

 

“So, you’re together? Thank god,” Emori went on, “I swear, I thought his mopey ass would never quit it with the stalling. I didn’t think I could handle me being able to move on and him not having the opportunity to get with you, officially.”

 

“What even is official?” She shook her head. “That word is so...I don’t know. Not important, you know?” No one agreed with her, and she found herself going on a bit of tangent, “I mean, we haven’t said it explicitly, but we’re together.” She paused. Were they though? They hadn’t really discussed it, they’d been too busy with all the sex. “I think.”

 

“You think?” Maya’s brow furrowed. 

 

“You haven’t defined what you are yet? It’s been weeks since you kept us up all night,” Octavia snorted. 

 

“Everyone makes their own rules,” Clarke assured her. 

 

“So you and Bellamy haven’t made it clear what you’re doing?” She clung onto the idea that maybe they were in similar positions. 

 

They probably were, she told herself. After all, there had been a similar fallout in one night. In fact, Bellamy and Clarke should’ve been less defined than her and Murphy. They still were just having weird romantic sleepovers. Surely, they had their shit figured out far more than her friends did. Though, as she thought about it, she realized that Bellamy had mentioned something about a talk the two of them had had the last night in Mexico. 

 

“Um, well, we have actually,” the other admitted, “we talked about it, and...He’s my boyfriend, you know? And more importantly, _he_ knows.” 

 

There was something pointed in the way she said it that started to block up Raven’s throat, and she couldn’t swallow properly. 

 

She turned to Harper, who until then had been quiet during the exchange. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, I think Clarke is right about making your own rules. I mean, every relationship is different. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, but…”

 

“But?” She challenged.

 

“You haven’t had The Talk, you know? You could be on completely different pages and not even know it.”

 

“So you all had this _Talk_ with your partners?” She looked around at her friends, all of whom nodded eventually. Jesus, she was an idiot, wasn’t she? “Fuck,” she muttered. 

 

“It doesn’t mean you aren’t really together,” Octavia jumped in, trying to salvage the situation, “but you know, it’s normal to discuss it. Lincoln and I had a good laugh about it, eventually. But yeah, even I managed to do it.”

 

Were her and Murphy really the normal type though? It certainly didn’t feel like it. 

 

“I know it’s hardly fun,” Maya said, trying to be helpful, “but it makes things easier in the future.”

 

The idea that she and Murphy weren’t built on as clear an understanding as she thought halted her previous good mood. Unlike her other relationships, they hadn’t discussed if they were a couple or not. It hadn’t even occurred to her to bring it up, and apparently, he was the same. Sure, they hung out a lot and were having a ton of sex, but he hadn’t asked her out on another date following their disaster of a failed attempt. She couldn’t help but think if they truly were as together as she had previously thought they were. 

 

The anxieties set in, even though she did her best to root them out. But it seemed they were there to stay. 

 

Maybe having The Talk wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. 

* * *

Clarke did her best to seduce Bellamy, but in the end, even sexy lingerie didn’t do the trick. Well, not in the way she’d been expecting. 

 

She wasn’t even shy about it, so he really had no reason to think that she wasn’t sure. Sure, it had taken a couple of words of advice from Emori about what to buy and where in order to get the look she was going for, but she really thought it was going to work. 

 

When she went into the bathroom that night to get changed, as she did almost every night since Mexico (he stayed over _a lot_ ), she didn’t get into her usual t-shirt and boxer shorts. Instead, she slipped on the, really, scraps of black lace that made up the bra and panty set. She had done costumes and stuff before for roleplay, but this was _Bellamy_ and a part of her was worried he wouldn’t be able to take her seriously in it. That was just a small part, though. Mostly, she was pretty sure she was gonna make his head explode. Then, hopefully, when he’d recovered enough, he’d fuck her. 

 

“So, I know you probably want to watch the new episode of whatever _Housewives_ show is on but I was thinking—” But whatever he’d been thinking clearly didn’t matter anymore. 

 

Hell, she wasn’t even sure if he could _think_ the way his jaw dropped and how he just blinked at her for a moment when she stepped back into her room. 

 

“What do you think?” She couldn’t help herself, she did a little spin before leaning against the door. 

 

He ran a hand over his face and it settled over his mouth. It took him a second to take it away so he could speak, and she wondered if he hadn’t delayed it because he couldn’t even form words. The thought thrilled her and she bit down on her lip. Which he definitely noticed, given the way his eyes flicked to her lips. 

 

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” he said.

 

“Not yet,” she assured him. 

 

He shook his head, but his eyes drifted a little lower, and she flushed. Then, he groaned and twisted around in the bed to bury his head into the pillows. 

 

“You really hate me,” he accused a little bit muffled by a pillow, “that’s the only explanation for this.”

 

She couldn’t help the disappointment she felt, though, she knew she shouldn’t have been that surprised. He’d been clear that he still thought they should wait, and if she couldn’t tempt him with this, she didn’t think anything would. 

 

“Or,” she argued, “I just want you. And I _know_ you want me, too.”

 

He sat up and sighed. “Of course I want you, Clarke.”

 

She moved across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, and he shifted so that they were sitting side by side. 

 

“Then what’s the problem?”

 

He took a deep breath before getting out, “I know we started this rule stuff because you’re scared, and that’s still what I care about most, but...I think I might’ve overestimated my own bravery.”

 

She frowned. While he had described some of his fears about them not working out before, the extent of it was kind of new to her. Maybe he didn’t want this, after all. He might’ve figured out that she was too broken, too messed up from her family and failed relationships. Oh, god. He loved her, yes, but perhaps that wasn’t enough. She prided herself on being strong, but she didn’t know if she could handle him breaking up with her. 

 

“What do you mean?” She asked, trying, and failing, to keep her voice even. 

 

He must’ve picked up on her worries right away because he immediately went to soothe them. 

 

“I want this so much, you, us, that I think it’s...I feel like I’m gonna fuck it all up again at any moment, and lose you for good. I think a part of the reason I’ve been resisting sleeping with you again is...It feels final, you know?”

 

She nodded, she understood how he felt in that way, at least. “No going back.”

 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you with this, though, and fuck,” he reached out and took her hand, “I’m so sorry if I did.”

 

She smiled softly. “You didn’t hurt me. I was just...I want this so badly, too, and I guess I was starting to get scared that maybe you wanted out.”

 

“Not even close. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely honest with you, I should’ve been, and...I will be, in the future,” he told her, and then swallowed and looked down at their join hands. “What about you? do you? Want out, I mean.”

 

Words were tricky, and she didn’t always trust her own, but she was sure a simple ‘no’ would’ve been enough for him. She wanted to give him more, though. So, she reached over and pressed the lightest of kisses against his lips. She pulled back but was still closer than she’d been before. 

 

“So, it turns out we’re both a little gun-shy,” he half-joked. 

 

She chewed on her lip. Even though she was grateful he’d been honest with her, she knew she was part of the reason for his fears, which messed with her head a bit. It wasn’t just her that had to work on letting herself feel what they were to one another. He had worked so hard to let her know how much he loved her, how committed he was to her comfort and not pressuring her. But had she done the same for him? Perhaps she hadn’t known that he’d needed that, but now she did. 

 

“I’m sorry if you felt like you couldn’t tell me because of all of my shit,” she said.

 

He shook his head and replied, “that was definitely not it. It had everything to do with me. You know, love to suffer in silence.”

 

She laughed a little at that. “Yeah, we’re both pretty good at that, I think.”

 

“We’ll figure it out though, okay?” 

 

She swallowed. “You really think so?

 

“No, I _know_ we will because I love you and I think I can actually believe that you do too, that you want to love me too, and that’s the only thing we need.”

 

And although it didn’t make her fears or doubt go away, even though she knew she needed to talk to someone about what she could do for _him_ , she believed what he said. 

 

The next day, she texted Murphy and asked him if he wanted to meet up at Grounders for a drink, just the two of them. He’d agreed, saying he had off the restaurant that day anyways. She expected that the topic might be a little awkward, but she knew if there was one person that would tell her what she needed to know and that she trusted enough to be honest with her, it was him. 

 

“What’s up with you and Bellamy, then?” He asked the minute they sat down with their beers. 

 

She sputtered out, “how do you know whatever I need to talk about has anything to do with him? I have other interests, you know.”

 

“Do you?” 

 

She flicked a bit of her beer at him, and he gave her an incredulous look.

 

“Fine,” she grumbled, “it has to do with Bellamy.”

 

“Knew it,” he said, “so give it to me. What did he do?”

 

She sighed and looked down at the table. 

 

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, surprised, “what did _you_ do?”

 

“Nothing,” she swore, “neither one of us has done nothing, but...He told me he’s scared of this, too.”

 

“Of course he is,” Murphy replied as she if she’d stated that his last name was Blake. 

 

“But he only just told me?” 

 

He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. He almost lost you this past year, only to do a complete insane flip and end up your boyfriend. It’s a lot to process for _me_ and I’m not even in the relationship.”

 

She swallowed. “That’s the problem. He’s been so great with me. Patient and understanding and even preventing me from doing things I normally would have that lead to nothing but self-destruction. He hasn’t been perfect, of course. That would be impossible. But he’s been there for me, and I can’t help but think that I haven’t been there for him. Not the way he’s needed me.”

 

He thought this over for a moment, before replying, “well, how do you think you can be there for him, then?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

He raised a brow. “Sure you do.”

 

“I don’t,” she shot back.

 

“Do fucking too,” he scoffed. “Hell, even I know. All of our friends know. Hell, that flag we stuck on the moon knows.”

 

“Enlighten me, then,” and she took a sip of her beer and leaned back in the booth. 

 

“You haven’t really committed. That’s why you guys are moving at a snail’s pace, why you’re not sleeping together, which, really?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “It’s why he’s still scared and you’re still scared and none of it is getting resolved.”

 

She was stunned into silence, but once she gained the ability to speak again, she protested, “I have _so_ committed. We had sex. I told him I love him. He’s my _boyfriend._ ” 

 

“Which is about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he told her. “I mean, you two? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” He shook his head. “You’ve been married since the first week you met, almost ten years ago. Where’s the risk?” He didn’t let her reply, “oh right, there isn’t one. You may think the two of you have gone all in, but you haven’t. Not in the way that counts.”

 

“There is too a risk. And what about you and Raven?” 

 

She was deflecting, and he knew it. 

 

“Maybe,” he allowed, “but not nearly enough of one to make any kind of difference,” he added, “and we aren’t talking about me and Raven. We’re solid. It’s you two who’re the mess.”

 

“We’re not a mess,” she was perturbed, now and getting a little pissed, “we’re...Complicated.”

 

“However you wanna say it, doesn’t make the fact that you two haven’t dived all the way into the deep end any less true.”

 

She wanted to argue more, wanted to point out how very wrong he was, about everything having to do with her and Bellamy. The more she considered his words though, the more she wondered if there was some truth to them. He made valid points, after all. 

 

While they’d exchanged ‘I love you’s and were together and had already developed some odd routine that felt quite domestic, they had yet to make any kind of lasting change, with themselves or together. It was as if they were following the steps that any normal couple was meant to take. But they weren’t a normal couple, as he had pointed out. No. They were Bellamy and Clarke. It was different. There were so many years, so much history between them. How could they expect they could just do what they were ‘supposed’ to and have it work out like any other couple?

 

“Fuck you,” she sighed, slumping slightly. 

 

“I think the words you’re looking for are: thank you so, so much, Murphy, my beautiful and sex god of a friend.”

 

“Not even close,” she shot back. 

 

“Whatever you say, but you know I’m right.”

 

The bastard looked so smug, she stuck her tongue out at him. 

 

“I hope you’re more mature the next time you talk to Bellamy,” he snarked at her. 

 

She huffed. “What am I gonna do when I do talk to him? What is there that I could possibly say? Fine,” she waved a hand, “you’re right about the risk thing,” she didn’t dwell though, because she knew if she gave him the opportunity he’d gloat, “but what do I do about it? I know it’s not as if I need to fix us, but...How do I make it work? How do I, using your metaphor, jump into the deep end?”

 

“I don’t think that’s completely for me to say,” he responded.

 

She glared at him, and for a moment, she really considered tossing her beer in his face.

 

“You had no problem telling me exactly what the issue was between me and Bellamy a minute ago, how is this any different?”

 

“That’s forcing you to confront something you probably already knew but was too chickenshit to admit or try to understand. I can help you get to the root of the problem, but I can’t tell you how to solve it.”

 

“Okay, Dr. Phil. You’ve been a great help, you shit,” she took a long drink from her beer, nearly downing half of it.

 

“I recommend not going home to him drunk, though,” he said.

 

“That’s not his home. It’s ours.”

 

“For now,” he said.

 

“Really? I’m not gonna just kick you out like that. Even though you’re barely there most nights of the week. In fact, once you and Raven are ready, I was thinking the four of us would just live together, you know? Like a commune.”

 

“Cute,” he snorted. 

 

The joking and avoidance could only last for so long, and she shook her head and asked, “what am I gonna do, Murphy?”

 

“You’ll know,” he reassured her, “you’ll know it when you feel it. Whatever it ends up being, you’ll know because it will feel right. Like it’s the only solution there is, the only thing you _can_ do. And when you do, tell the thoughts and the fears and all that other stuff to go fuck itself, and just do it.”

 

She laughed, though she really did take his words as truth. “Who knew you had a way with words? Was this always a thing? Or is it new since getting with Raven?”

 

“I always did, but you were too distracted by my body.”

 

“Yeah,” her tone was dry, “that was _definitely_ it.”

 

After having another drink, the two of them decided to spend the night as roommates, switching off between episodes of shows that she liked and ones he did. When she’d texted Bellamy, he told her that it worked for him since he was drowning in papers to grade, and Raven had been bugging him to do work and watch the game together. 

 

She knew he was happy she had Murphy, just like she was that he had Raven in a similar way. There should’ve been more tension with the four of them, she thought, after everything that had happened between them throughout the last months, but they really did all love one another, in their own weird and different ways. 

 

The feeling came to her while she was watching the first episode of _Breaking Bad._ It didn’t interest her so much, but Murphy was entranced, explaining certain nuances as the episode played. Her mind wandered though, and it was no surprise who it wandered to. Just as Murphy had told her, when she felt it, _she knew._ It wasn’t the thing she was supposed to do or maybe even the best thing. It certainly wouldn’t solve every problem they had. But she just knew it had to happen.

 

It was in her bones, and she was radiating with it. 

 

Murphy must’ve picked up on it because he paused whatever he was saying, and turned to her. He looked at her, carefully taking in her expression. Once he realized what it meant, he grinned.

 

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” He asked. 

 

“You bet your ass I did.”

 

“Wanna talk about it before you do it?” And she knew he would, for hours if she needed to, but she didn’t need to. 

 

“I do want to talk about it,” she said, and then laughed, “but I think it’s best if I talk to him first.”

 

He nodded. “Fair enough. As long as I’m second. Or else, I’ll be terribly devastated.”

 

She rolled her eyes, and replied, “but of course.”

 

When they resumed watching the episode, she had to bite her cheek from smiling so hard it would hurt. The excitement and nerves and everything telling her not to do it coursed through her. But, as she’d been advised, she only paid to attention to what she felt, what she knew was not the right thing, but the right thing for _them._ All she could do was hope Bellamy agreed.

 

It was crazy, she knew. But she also knew that this was her and Bellamy. She had never been more sure about loving someone or them loving her in her entire life. Surely, the rules didn’t apply to them. At least, she hoped they didn’t, because she was about to break every last one of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, and I hoped you enjoyed this one! 
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat about the fic!


	25. Sweet Music Playing in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, we've got some exciting news for murphy that actually doesn't have to deal with who he's sleeping with (I know, I'm shocked, too) and clarke makes a decision about her future with bellamy! there's a dash of sexy times in the first half, but it's pretty easy to avoid if that's not your thing. 
> 
> thank you so much for the lovely and kind words I've gotten about my fic. as we come to a close, I just want to reiterate that none of this would've been possible without your dedication to my story and encouragement you consistently gave me along the way.

Murphy had a shit night. It was late, far too late for him to hit up Raven’s place, even though she’d told him that morning before leaving for work that she’d probably be up, despite the presentation she had to give that day. He’d texted her halfway through the night before things had really gone to hell, and she hadn’t replied, which he took as her having passed out. Probably with her phone in her hand. Her arm at a weird angle. The image of it was almost enough to improve his mood. Almost. 

 

As he was arriving at his and Clarke’s place, his phone rang. It was Jaha. It took him a moment to remember where the other’d even gotten his. Abby’s party, of course. Before everything had gone to hell. 

 

He answered it.

 

“John?” The man asked. 

 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I mean, yes. It’s...John.”

 

“Sorry for the late hour, but it was the only time I could call.”

 

“That’s fine,” he replied, “was just getting home, actually.”

 

He paused outside the door to their place. 

 

“From the restaurant _Harrison_ correct? On Dendrich and seventh?” 

 

“That’s the one,” and he wondered why the hell Jaha of all people was calling him at almost midnight to ask him about his place of work. 

 

“How’s that going?”

 

Maybe this was some kind of test, he thought. His boss was pretty paranoid, and he wouldn’t put it past her. 

 

“Can’t complain,” was his carefully chosen response. 

 

“I ask because, well, I’ve decided to make an investment in your industry. There’s a place on eleventh and Quincy. It’s prime real estate, and I’m hoping to help put in a new restaurant there.” 

 

“So you called to brag or?” He asked. 

 

Jaha chuckled on the other line. “No, of course not, John.”

 

“Then what?” He was getting a little anxious, and a little impatient that the dude wouldn’t just tell him what was going on. 

 

“I want it to be ours. Well, truly, it will be yours. I’ll just be the silent partner.”

 

It didn’t register for several minutes. 

 

“John, you still there?”

 

“Yes,” he stuttered out, “Um, I guess I’m just um…” God, he sounded like such an idiot. “Kind of in shock? Yeah, I guess I’m in shock.”

 

“That’s quite alright, I know this must be a lot to take in. I’ll give you a few days to think it over, get some advice from Clarke if you’d like.”

 

“Uh, wait one second,” he managed to get out. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why?” He wondered aloud. “Why do you wanna do this huge thing, this risk, with me? I mean, you could pick anyone. Certainly people more seasoned or in a better position so…”

 

“Because I believe in you. I know our meeting was brief, but I think you’re going to be great one day, and I intend on being a part of it. Now, I really must be going, Wells is due to call soon.”

 

“Of course, yeah, sure. Have a nice night,” he said, though he didn’t really hear himself say the words. 

 

Fucking hell. He was getting his own restaurant.

 

Technically, Clarke and Bellamy found out first, because when he made it the living room, she grinned and asked him how Jaha was, but Raven was the first person he _told._

 

After he’d called Jaha and accepted the offer, she’d insisted on them going out to celebrate, which he was more than happy to agree to since he realized they hadn’t actually really gone out since Mexico. He felt so bad about their disaster of an attempt that he didn’t want to risk screwing it all up again, but if she was going to extend a sign that she wanted a real date, then he’d gladly take it and run with it. She also told him that she’d be planning the whole thing, and he wasn’t allowed to be involved in any of the decision-making.

 

“It’s your night,” she’d said, “I just want to make it special. So let me, okay? I promise I’ll enlist Clarke to help with picking out the where part.”

 

“It’ll be easier if I just agree, won’t it?”

 

“Absolutely,” she’d replied. 

 

“Fine. I guess I’m at your mercy.”

 

He’d been able to hear how smug she was in her victory over the phone. “Just how I like you.”

 

Honestly, it would’ve been a lie to try and argue that he didn’t like it just as much as she did, and she’d definitely call him out on it too.

 

God, he was so in love with her, he should’ve been worried about how much trouble he was in because of it. Before he ever got there though, she was always reminding him why he shouldn’t have been in the slightest. Not in words, really, but by being there, reminding him why he was doing it all in the first place. It wasn’t something that he was used to yet, but he thought that he could be. One day. 

 

Raven had instructed him to dress up a little, so he’d gotten out the button down and jacket he only ever used for meetings and waited outside his place for her. A limo pulled up, one of the smaller ones, but a limo nonetheless. He figured the driver probably needed to ask for directions. 

 

Then the window rolled down and a familiar voice called out, “am I the best or am I the best?”

 

She poked her head out the window and he grinned, shaking his head a little at the theatrics. 

 

Her make up was all done up in a way he assumed must’ve taken some kind of effort, though, really, he didn’t care much about that. He couldn’t see what she was wearing, but he’d bet anything it was going to make his mouth water. 

 

“Isn’t this a bit much?” He asked. 

 

She flung open the door. 

 

“Not even close.”

 

“Seriously,” he protested, even as he slid into the car and they started to drive away from his place, “this is a lot, even for you.”

 

She adjusted her dress. It was black with a bunch of straps and kind of long but short enough it wouldn’t get caught in her brace. As he’d thought, it made him want to abandon any other plans she might’ve had and check ‘having sex in a moving vehicle’ off his bucket list. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she grinned, “this is exactly the right amount, considering you’re going to own your own restaurant in a couple of months. I mean, come on, admit it. You’re beyond ecstatic.”

 

He rolled his eyes but allowed himself to smile a little. 

 

“Maybe I am, just slightly…”

 

She scoffed. “Murphy! You’re going to be a food connoisseur!” 

 

“I thought I already was?” He raised a brow. 

 

Giving him an incredulous look, she added, “maybe. But now you’ll be one that’s running their own place,” she clicked her tongue against her teeth, “something tells me you’re majorly freaking out right now about it but you think it’d be lame to show me how much.” She leaned in close. “I already know how lame you are, so really, there’s nothing you could say or do that I won’t already expect.”

 

“And make fun of me for,” he retorted. 

 

“That may be,” she admitted, “but I also promise some rip-roaring sex later to make up for it.”

 

That got him interested, and she laughed at the look that he must’ve gotten at her words. 

 

“How about we skip whatever embarrassingly cheesy night you have planned and we go and get to that right now?”

 

She faltered a little at that, just the smallest indication that the sentiment got to her in a way he hadn’t meant. 

 

Just as he was going to ask her about it though, she waved a hand, “hell no. I actually spent money on tonight. And it is not embarrassingly cheesy. I don’t do _cheesy_.”

 

“Sure you don’t,” was his reply. 

 

She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get anything out, the limo pulled to a stop. 

 

“We’re here! Get pumped, dork,” she said.

 

He held back a groan, but she read it on his face. 

 

“It’ll be _fun_. I promise.”

 

He did his best to look convinced, if only for her benefit. 

 

When he got out of the car though, she smirked at his reaction. He had no idea how she’d pulled it off. It was impossible, and yet…There they were, outside of one of the best restaurants in the city. His _favorite_ restaurant in the city. _Namai,_ a Lithuanian spot where you were more likely to win the biggest pot of the lottery than score a table.

 

He’d only ever eaten at it once when he’d visited with his mom and dad. Before his dad got locked up and his mom took up drinking. It was probably the happiest memory he had from his childhood. He had told his friends the story years ago, back around when he first got his job at _Harrison_ as a kitchen grub that was barely being paid anything. Raven had done it on purpose. Even though she was standing there, letting him take it in, she didn’t have to say it. He knew it’d been because she’d remembered because she really gave a damn. 

 

“Are you gonna cry? Because I’d rather you wait until we’re inside. I always wanted to see someone cry on a date.” She was blushing a little at the usage of the last word, but he didn’t know why. 

 

He couldn’t think too much about what it meant though, he was still in shock. 

 

“Who did you kill?” He asked.

 

“No one,” she replied, far too innocent, “Clarke pulled a few strings and then I used my quick wit and winning personality to get us all the way there.”

 

He snorted. “The truth.”

 

“It is! I promise, I only vaguely threatened the hostess once,” she assured him. 

 

“Once?” He asked, amused. 

 

“Twice, whatever. The second time hardly counts because I could tell I already had her. She really thought she was gonna convince me I didn’t actually want the table I’d secured? Please.”

 

“And that table would be…?” 

 

“A surprise,” she finished. 

 

“You genuinely scare me,” he told her. 

 

“Good. Now, let’s go inside so you can cry in front of me with mood lighting.”

 

She looped her arm through his and they walked through the door together. He didn’t know why he was surprised, but the decore had changed a lot since he was a kid. It was more modern now, and everything managed to seem sleek and yet comforting and far from cold at the same time. 

 

They walked up to the hostess stand and had to wait a minute. The place was packed, and he couldn’t make out a free table anywhere. That didn’t deter him though, not when he knew Raven had done whatever it had taken to get them a table there. Plus, if there were any problems, she would do whatever was necessary to get them at the said table that night.

 

“Hi, we have a reservation,” Raven said to the hostess, who Murphy noticed honed in on her tone and glared a little. 

 

“I know,” her voice high and nasal. 

 

“Great, so…?”

 

“Right this way,” the hostess told them and grabbed two menus before she started to walk away from the stand. 

 

He bit his cheek to keep himself from laughing. 

 

When she kept going past the tables, he shot Raven a confused look. She grinned but didn’t say anything. 

 

They kept going until they reached the doors of the kitchen, he scoffed.

 

“No fucking way did you pull _this_ off.”

 

“I am a genius,” she said.

 

He shook his head. “This isn’t genius. This is a _miracle_.”

 

“Well, then call me a miracle maker.”

 

True to what he’d expected but couldn’t yet fully believe, there was a table set up in the kitchen. This was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, he was pretty sure. These kinds of things didn’t happen to people like him, he’d thought, but then again, it was Raven. If there was anyone that could make the impossible happen, it was her. 

 

The waitress seated them, explaining that they would be eating a meal specifically planned for them by the head chef, complete with wine pairings and dessert. When she walked away, he took in the kitchen, the amazement clear in his expression.

 

“So, you hate it?” Raven guessed, smirking. 

 

“Shut up,” he shot back, “you know I’m flipping out right now.”

 

“Yeah, but no tears so I gotta say I’m kind of disappointed,” she shrugged. 

 

He laughed. “Yeah, it’s really evident on your face that that is exactly how you feel.” He could practically feel the pride and happiness radiating off of her. 

 

One bite of the first dish and he was in heaven. Even though Raven didn’t have his training, he could tell she was loving it, too. They were having an amazing time, really.  But even with that, there was something beneath her words, something she wasn’t saying but he knew she wanted to. He couldn’t guess what it was, and every time he felt he was getting close, she’d quickly change the topic or distract him with more food or wine. If he had been less entranced with the meal, he would’ve been worried. 

 

When it came time for dessert, there was a longer break in between the courses, to give them time to digest and clean their pallets. While they were waiting for more wine, Raven stood up, dapping at her lipstick a little. 

 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she told him. 

 

There was something to her voice though, something that interested him _a lot_. They’d been together long enough that he knew her tells by now, and she was definitely putting one out. 

 

“In case you were wondering,” she went on, and then disappeared out of the kitchen. 

 

It only took him about a half a minute to get it, and once he did, he didn’t waste any time following after her. 

 

He knocked once on the door to the women’s room, and she peeked her head out. 

 

“Thank god, thought you might be the hostess,” and then she grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him inside, locking the door behind him. 

 

Her lips were on his before he could even think of a response. 

 

She crowded him against the door, her lips shifting from his mouth to his neck, barely giving him an opportunity to speak or make any kind of contribution. There was no time for them to settle into one another. They were in a bathroom in a very fancy restaurant, so he knew her fast pace was warranted, so he went with it, and really, who was he to complain?

 

He grabbed her jaw and brought her lips back to his and backed her against the sink. She gripped the edges and started to heft herself up, and he busied his hands with undoing his belt, not removing it entirely but enough so that she could work on the buckle of his pants. Before she could move to get herself up on the sink vanity in earnest, he flipped her around so that her back was pressed to his chest. Breaking their lips apart, he trailed open-mouth kisses down her throat. 

 

“Like this,” he murmured against her ear. 

 

She panted out a, “yes,” in response, and ground herself against him, which made them both breathless. 

 

They had to be quick, so there wasn’t really time for much foreplay, though really, that was her decision. 

 

He bunched up her dress and pushed her panties aside, brushing his thumb against her clit and teased a finger near her entrance. 

 

“Murphy,” she moaned, “as much as I want you to, we don’t have the _time_.”

 

He chuckled against her throat. “So pushy. I try and do something nice for you and this is the thanks I get.”

 

“Shut up and fuck me,” she commanded. 

 

Who was he to deny her that?

 

He pushed her forward a little so they could get the angle right. She placed both of her hands on the vanity for support and shifted a little. He pushed her dress out of the way and helped as she kicked off her panties. A giggle bubbled up and out of her mouth, which she stifled too late with her hand. 

 

“You better be quiet,” he warned, but he was half-laughing as he said it. 

 

“Please, you’d be the worst dom ever,” she snorted.

 

She was still saying something smug about it when he pushed all the way into her and made her gasp and lose herself in the middle of her sentence. 

 

He snapped his hips and went even deeper, which made her stutter out a whole lot of curses so soft he couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping together and their gasps and moans. She pushed back against him, and he ran his hands along her hips, her waist, the sides of her breasts. 

 

“Just like that,” she said over and over. 

 

He kept going, doing as she wanted, chasing her high as well as his own. 

 

With steady thrusts, he rocked into her, finding the rhythm so much easier than the first time. They’d been together more times than he could count since that night in Mexico, and hell, if it hadn’t been the most fun month he’d had, maybe ever. He didn’t know if she felt the same (they had never been the super feelings-y type and while they’d promised to be honest with one another, they weren’t going to change who they were), not completely, but he was pretty sure.

 

The fact that it had been her idea to bang in an upscale restaurant’s bathroom was a pretty good indicator that she did. 

 

When his fingers found her clit again, she gasped out his name, a little loudly, though really, he was shocked they hadn’t managed to get caught yet. After a few more thrusts and careful teasing with his hand, she came apart against him. 

 

He followed quickly after, soaking up the feeling she gave him, and head him slip out, “God, I love fucking you,” as he came back to himself. 

 

It wasn’t everything he felt, but she knew that. He knew she did. 

 

Once they got themselves cleaned up, they went back to their table, earning a pointed look from the hostess and suppressing their grins. Despite that, the rest of the night felt a little off. Raven made jokes, laughed at his, said the dessert was better than the orgasm he’d just given her. All typical her stuff, but something was wrong, he could tell. 

 

Her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes, and her laugh was bright but a little off-key. When they climbed into an Uber to head back to her place, she didn’t immediately jump in like she had in the past. Didn’t even reach out to hold his hand. It was weird, and when he tried to bring it up, she dismissed it. 

 

He started to worry, and so, when they got to her place, he took her hand as they walked down her narrow street, hoping the contact would make her feel comfortable enough that she could tell him whatever was going on. She opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. He’d wait though, for whenever she was ready. 

 

Swallowing, she cleared her throat, and then she took her hand out of his and stepped back. Away from him. Her expression was unreadable. 

 

And then she said something he never thought he’d hear from her, four words that made his heart plummet into his stomach. 

 

“We need to talk.”

* * *

Clarke was nervous she was going to throw up before Bellamy came over. The entire day, she’d been a mess, running around trying to make things perfect and failing at every turn. It didn’t help that she had the day off, and so there was absolutely nothing else to occupy her mind with what she planned to do that night. Part of her wanted to just get it over with and do it, and another questioned if she hadn’t completely lost it and should just scrap the whole thing. 

 

It had been like that for a week now, ever since she’d figured out what she wanted, and she knew Bellamy was picking up on it. He’d asked her a couple of times, but she’d waved him off at every turn. It felt horrible, not telling him the truth. She hoped that it would be worth it though, in the end. 

 

When she’d first decided to do it, she didn’t know where to even think about starting. It caused her so much stress she almost abandoned it that first night. Eventually, though, she knew how she would do it, how it would feel natural. Like it wasn’t the craziest thing she’d ever thought of, but the best. 

 

Bellamy came in with, “honey, I’m home!” as he hung up his coat and messenger bag from work. 

 

She laughed as she handed him a beer, clinking it against her own, “are we really embracing that much of our dork-factor? Not saying I’m not into it, but we should prepare for an onslaught of teasing from our friends.”

 

“Long as we’re in it together, I don’t care,” he replied, and she grinned into their kiss. 

 

It was exactly what she needed to hear at that moment. If this week had shown her anything, it was that she was making the decision she thought was best, and it was really all because of him. They’d talked more about him being scared too. It felt nice, to have everything they were thinking out there, to know they could lean on one another no matter what happened or what they were feeling. 

 

“I’m glad you feel that way because I went ahead and ordered that pizza with penne and vodka sauce on it,” she told him, a little sheepish. 

 

She also knew he thought she looked cute when she pulled that look and wanted to use that to her advantage, just a bit. 

 

“It’s gonna kill you one day, and I’ll be devastated,” he replied, sighing a bit. 

 

“That’s why I got enough for you too,” she added, “I’m taking you with me when I go.”

 

He snorted. “You’re so considerate.”

 

She swiped his beer out of his hand, ignoring his yip of protest, and took a sip from it before she gave it back to him. 

 

“Always.” 

 

While he put together ingredients for a salad because she, “needed some kind of sustenance or she really would die before her time and leave him the saddest person alive,” she hoisted herself up onto the counter. 

 

They talked about their days, mostly his, since he had work. She asked questions about his students and loved the pride in his voice when he talked about how strong his AP students were this year and his smile when he described that the new freshman cracked him up. If he picked up on her nerves, he didn’t comment, which made her think that he had no idea what was going on in her head. The mess of energy and excitement and fear, but mostly love. 

 

It hadn’t been how she planned it, not at all, but she was so far gone for him, she realized. She knew that he was her person and she was his and that was it. Anything overly planned or romantic just wouldn’t be them. She had thought agonizingly about what to say and how to say it, but she knew it didn’t really matter. Whatever she ended up saying, she would mean it. Hopefully, he would see that.

 

Without thinking too much about it, lest she convince herself not to do it, she knew she had to say it then. The words were right there. She was going to surge through every thought in her head that told her not to and reach out and grab them. 

 

While his back was turned as he halved some cherry tomatoes, she asked, “can I ask you something?”

 

She was shocked by how cool her voice sounded, how she was able to maintain a casualness that was so natural between them, even while preparing herself. 

 

This was probably the scariest thing she had ever done in her entire life, and really, there were a million reasons for her not to do it.

 

But he was the reason why she should’ve, and really, that outweighed all of the others. 

 

He laughed. She watched as the muscles in his shoulders and back moved and was so consumed with her fondness for him. Then he turned around a faced her. 

 

“You okay?” He asked, concern weaving its way into his voice. 

 

“Perfect,” she responded without missing a beat. 

 

“Alright, then go ahead,” and then he said dismissively as if it was the last thing in the world that could ever be uttered by her, “as long as it’s not ‘will you marry me?’” 

 

She froze, god, she was a fucking idiot. 

 

When he looked over at her, she gulped and went bright red. She shifted her glance so that she could pretend that the pizza box was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. 

 

Her silence screamed the reality into existence more than any kind of reply could’ve. 

 

“Oh shit,” she heard him whisper. 

 

“Forget it,” she said. 

 

“Clarke…I mean...I…”

 

“It’s totally fine! We don’t have to talk about it,” she got quickly, her voice at some insane octave. 

 

God, where was her previous composure? She could sure fucking use that right about now. It was gone though, just like the overwhelming feeling that she’d been making the right decision. All of her sureness, her belief in what she was doing, it disappeared. 

 

“Really,” she stressed, “let’s just forget it, okay? It doesn’t matter,” she couldn’t stop herself from rambling on, “I was being stupid. Beyond, stupid, really I was...I don’t know. I think I might have hit my head in the shower and not realized it. I have no idea what I was even thinking, god, and the last thing I want to do is mess this up but now I have and shit...Can we just pretend that didn’t happen, okay?”

 

She heard him set down the knife and walk over to her. He reached out and put a hand on her arm. She sighed at the contact, but still wouldn’t allow herself to look at him. 

 

“Clarke?” He asked.

 

She blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. 

 

Slowly, so much so that she barely felt it, he moved his hand up and down her arm. The touch was so comforting, so reassuring, that it made her want to smile and kiss him with everything she had. But she couldn’t do that, because she might’ve just ruined them. No, she had definitely just ruined them. _What the fuck had she been thinking?_

 

“Can we talk about it?” He went on, “if you don’t want to, then we don’t have to. I promise. I really will just forget the whole thing but…” 

 

She heard him swallow.

 

If nothing else, some of her worries were soothed by the mere fact that he was willing to try and let it go, to do that if it was what she really wanted. But was it? She already knew the answer to that. Besides, maybe talking about it would make her see reason, make her realize what a truly horrible mistake she’d been making. 

 

“Maybe we can talk about it,” she allowed, “a little.” Her voice was shakier than she’d liked, but she did bring herself to look him in the eye. 

 

“Okay,” he said, “whenever you wanna start, alright?”

 

She’d been expecting him to look at her as if she had truly lost it. As if she had finally flown over the cuckoo’s nest. If she’d been looking for that reinforcement though, she wouldn’t find it in his eyes. There, she would only see the love and tenderness and maybe a bit of worry, but she got that it wasn’t for her sanity, but for _her_ . He would wait, too, for however long she needed to speak, she felt it without him even having to explicitly say the words. He had been patient before and he would be now, even when the realization that she’d been about to _propose_ was hitting him in waves. 

 

“It was stupid.”

 

He gave her a look. Not a cruel one, but one that definitely said: _I don’t buy the bullshit you’re selling_.

 

Despite the mess of the situation, she was able to laugh a little. 

 

“Okay, maybe stupid isn’t the right word,” she sighed, “it was a lot, I know that. And sudden and a shit ton of other stuff and I...What do you want me to say, Bellamy?”

 

His reply was quick, “whatever you want to say. I just want you to feel okay.”

 

“And?”

 

“I am a little shocked,” he admitted.

 

 _Yeah, I bet,_ she thought. 

 

He went on, “mostly because...Well, I never imagined that...” he gulped a little and shook his head before continuing, “I hoped, I think, that we’d get to this point someday. That we’d move slowly and carefully and eventually get to a place where we could talk about it. Maybe, if that was what you wanted. But I never thought it’d be your idea first, that you’d feel comfortable, hell, safe enough to _ask me_.”

 

It wasn’t what she’d been expecting. 

 

She’d been anticipating the following: crazy, way too soon, possibly erratic, and questions of whether she had hit her head recently. What she had not was him acting as if this was a completely normal question to ask him, that _he_ had been the one to misinterpret things. Like he was the one who was at fault for not realizing her intent sooner. 

 

It was a little overwhelming, and it took a second for her mindset to adjust. She’d been preparing herself to have to defend her sanity, her place in this relationship. Now she found herself again facing questions of whether or not she’d been right to ask in the first place. Not that it mattered now, of course. 

 

“I did, I mean…” She huffed, “apparently I do feel that safe.”

 

“That’s all I ever wanted for us, honestly.”

 

She smiled, it was small, but there, and she felt comfortable enough to joke around with him about it, though it was a little too soon. 

 

“Before you, you know, wrecked my proposal by joking as if it was the last thing you’d ever imagined I’d say.”

 

“It was, I think,” he said, smiling a little sadly. “I’m sorry that I wrecked it, though. I should’ve never made that dumb joke.”

 

That gave her pause. “You really think that?”

 

He frowned. “Of course I do,” he ran his free hand through his hair, “you think I’m not absolutely losing it thinking about what you were gonna say? Come on, Clarke. You act as if I get proposed to every day.”

 

She smirked. “Well, you were engaged before so…”

 

“Yeah,” he added, “but I haven’t been proposed to by _you_.”

 

She wondered if that kind of thing really did come naturally to him, or if he thought of it in the shower and saved it for later. She didn’t know which one she would’ve preferred if she had the choice. 

 

A sudden confidence boost coursed through her at his words, at the admission of something that was at once serious and a half-joke. It wasn’t a blaring symbol or the explicit words, but it was enough for her. He had always been, and would always be, she knew that. She felt it so strongly it knocked into her and the shift was practically tangible in the kitchen. 

 

“You okay?” He wondered, probably confused by the sudden change in her expression. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” it was the truth, after all.

 

She wasn’t much good at relationship stuff, she was beginning to realize. But truth? That she could do. 

 

“Then…Are you okay?”

 

“Well, I was thinking…” She bit her lip. “I could tell you what I was going to say. You know, for science.”

 

“Science?” He asked, seemingly playing along, “I’ve never been a big fan of that kind of thing. More into books. Valiant heroes. Epics. Loves lost and won and lost and won. Swords.”

 

She huffed out a laugh. “I promise, you’ll be a fan of it this time.”

 

“Oh really? You’re gonna play teacher?” 

 

He sounded delighted and it sent something else entirely buzzing through her. 

 

He had moved his hand from rubbing her arm softly to playing idly with her hair, twisting small curls around his fingers.

 

“Shut up or I won’t tell you,” she warned, giving him a faux stern expression. 

 

“Sorry,” he coughed on a laugh, “please, please keep going, Professor Griffin.”

 

She giggled at that, but found her composure eventually and was able to get out the next words, “well, I would start with something super cool and casual, like ‘can I ask you something?’”

 

“And I would say absolutely nothing except ‘of course,’” he replied.

 

Nodding, she continued, “and you would say absolutely nothing except ‘of course’ and so then I would go on and say, ‘Bellamy Blake, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else in my whole life,’”

 

He jumped in with a, “and I love you more than anyone else, too,”

 

“Don’t interrupt!” She chastised. 

 

“It’s what I would’ve done,” he argued. 

 

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if I want to continue now...”

 

He pouted at her, and she burst out laughing. 

 

“Fine, fine,” she grinned, “and then I’d go on to say, ‘you held my hand when we rode in the ambulance with Atom to the hospital. You beat the shit out of that Dax guy in college for trying to lay even a hand on me. You came to me first when Octavia disappeared with Ontari for a week and we tracked her down together. But more than that, you make me laugh when I’m intent on being a stick in the mud, you protected Jasper and Monty when Dean McCreary tried to get them kicked out of college, and you have been in every single one of my best memories.”

 

He moved in to kiss her, but she laid a hand on his chest and shook her head a little. 

 

She swallowed, “Not done yet.”

 

He whined a little, and said, “this a long proposal.”

 

She scoffed and raised a brow.

 

“That I greatly appreciate you even telling me what you were going to say. If you were, you know, actually proposing and this wasn’t just you saying what you would if you were,” he said.

 

She took a breath, “and _if_ I was proposing, I would go on to say that, ‘you’re brave and not afraid to feel all of the love you have for your friends and sister and me and there’s no one I need in my life like I need you. And I don’t just think you feel the same way, I know it. Because you tell me, in everything you do, in everything you say. And I don’t think it’s possible for someone to know someone else’s soul like we know the other’s.’”

 

“I think you’re missing a part,” he almost whispered. 

 

“Am I?” She asked, playing coy. 

 

He laughed. “I don’t know...Maybe?”

 

“Oh, right, duh.” 

 

She rolled her eyes and he tried to keep a straight face and failed completely. 

 

“So, I know it’s completely crazy, but,” her voice shaking a little, but it was somehow still the strongest thing she’d ever said, “will you marry me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways,,,,,,,hope you enjoyed!
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	26. True Love Will Find You in the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is the last full chapter before the epilogue, so hopefully, I've managed to give all of this wild story a satisfying (semi) conclusion. we get raven and murphy at last working through their shit that came out in the last chapter as well as bellamy's reaction (and answer). it gets smutty in the second half of the chapter, but it should be pretty easy to skip if that's not your thing. 
> 
> so, we're almost there. the very end, and god, I'm so not ready to say goodbye to this story yet, but I really wanted to get these chapters out to you as I was so excited to know your reactions and bring this story to an ending that hopefully gives everyone reading this good closure. thank you, as always, for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, hitting me up on tumblr, or really, showing any kind of love for this story. you're all amazing.

Raven had known the minute she said the words that it had been the wrong thing to say. All night, she’d been trying to get them out, the right words, the way to phrase what she wanted to ask that wouldn’t completely destroy what they had managed to build, but she couldn’t force herself to say it. Every time she thought she had finally found the best way to arrange the words, it slipped away. 

 

There were plenty of opportunities, but anything she thought of sounded so forced or just so not them it was ridiculous. It was beyond picky and really, she was being a little melodramatic. 

 

Maybe she probably should’ve taken this as some kind of sign that it wasn’t what she should really be concerning herself with, but her friends’ words echoed in her mind. 

 

All week, the things they had said hadn’t left her alone, and the more time she spent with Murphy, the worse that it got. She had hoped to put it out of her mind for the night, but it just hadn’t happened. Instead, she spent half of it ignoring the nagging feeling and the other half dwelling so much on it she was sure he’d picked up on it. 

 

She was scared, especially after he’d mentioned abandoning the entire date in the limo and then said, “I love fucking you,” in the bathroom. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the sentiment but...Was that something you told your girlfriend on a date? She wasn’t sure. 

 

Every time that she was a little more sure that they were agreed on where they stood, he’d throw her a little. It got so bad that she could tell he knew something was up by the end of the night when she couldn’t even hold his hand. She’d never been any good at hiding what she was feeling, even if she didn’t understand it herself. 

 

Still, she could’ve picked something, anything other than what she ended up saying. 

 

The look on Murphy’s face when she’d said those words...God, she was a moron. It didn’t matter if they weren’t on the same page, she knew she’d hurt him, even if it was only for a moment, and she hated it. As soon as she realized what she’d done, she started to backtrack, but he put up a hand and she went quiet. 

 

“The fuck?”

 

She didn’t really have a good answer for that. Honestly, she wanted to ask herself the same thing. 

 

“Raven, seriously?” He asked. 

 

She was sure he wasn’t going to say anything else and that she’d have to collect her brains from where she’d dropped them on the ground, but then he blew out a breath and muttered ‘okay’ to himself. As if he was gearing himself up for something. She had no idea what they could be, but she guessed he didn’t think it was good if his grim expression was anything to go by. 

 

“What’s going on with you tonight? I thought it wasn’t anything, just run of the mill you weirdness, but now...Did I do something?”

 

He really thought it was _him._ God, she truly was terrible. 

 

“No,” she rushed out.

 

The last thing she wanted was for him to think that her worries were his fault. The things he must’ve thought when she’d said those four words...If he had said them to her, she probably would’ve already fallen apart by now. The fact that he wasn’t berating her or completely losing it was amazing. 

 

“Then what?”

 

It was wrong for her to have brought it up in the first place, she knew that now, but she was committed to having whatever discussion this was going to be—it was too late for her to back out. Even though that was all she wanted at the moment. 

 

“I was just...I mean, I think that we should have The Talk, about whether we’re in a relationship. _Define it_ , you know?”

 

Her words came out jumbled and she tripped over them as she spoke into the night air, her breath coming out in shaky puffs. All of the carefully worded ideas flew from her mind. She was left with little, and she felt herself cringe as she got it out. It sounded even dumber when she actually said the words. 

 

She anticipated an array of reactions from Murphy from pissed to mildly annoyed. Maybe some cursing about how she was an idiot and what did she expect from him and any other assortment of that type. Definitely some shaming for her. 

 

What she didn’t think would happen, however, was for him to _laugh._ Uproariously and without abandon. As if she had just told the funniest joke of her life. Hell, as it went on, she was pretty sure to him, she just had. He’d never laughed like this, maybe ever, in all the years she’d known him. It went on for a while before she scrounged up the ability to butt in on his good time.  

 

“What are you doing?” She demanded. 

 

“I’m sorry—sorry I’m just…” He lost it again and it took him a second to regain his composure so he could speak in proper sentences. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

 

“It was mine,” she argued. 

 

He snorted. 

 

“I don’t buy that for a fucking second. Come on, admit it, who the hell gave you this insane idea?”

 

As soon as he questioned her, she knew he was right. It was insane. Not because they really needed to have that kind of talk, but because she had allowed herself to get into the mindset that they weren’t in agreement about their relationship. Even when everything they’d done and said since Mexico was telling her that they were. 

 

She kicked at a pebble. 

 

“You’re gonna laugh,” she said. 

 

“I’m already laughing,” he pointed out and then moved so that their hands were joined once more, “but you gotta tell me. If nothing else than so that I can kick their ass.”

 

“You couldn’t kick their asses if you tried.”

 

“Oh?” He asked, intrigued, “so it was multiple people then?” He shook his head and then paused dramatically, tapping at his chin with his free hand. “I can only imagine who it could’ve been.”

 

“Our friends meant well,” she defended them, even though, in retrospect, that had almost ruined her thing with Murphy, even if it was only for about a minute. 

 

“They also meant well during the Fourth of July Debacle of Two Thousand and Twelve. Doesn’t make it any less their fault with their idiocy.”

 

“The thing is,” she let out a breath, “I don’t think they’re idiots. I think...Well, what they’re doing with their boyfriends and girlfriends. It’s what they’re supposed to do, what everyone expects from relationships. It...It feels so normal, you know?”

 

“And we don’t,” he finished. 

 

It wasn’t a question. 

 

“Isn’t that okay?” 

 

She wasn’t so sure, and her silence said it for her. 

 

He must’ve been though because he went on, “I mean...No offense to any of our friends or their relationships, but I tried normal and it didn’t work. You did, too, if you’ll recall. I thought we were doing pretty awesome until you gave me a freakin’ heart attack by acting as if you were about to end it. Who needs some lame discussion about what this is? I know what I feel for you, and what you do for me. That should be enough, you know? Besides, the whole discussion thing,” he took a breath and blew out, “it doesn’t make what we’re doing any less risky. It just puts a shit ton of more pressure on it. Maybe, for us, at least, normal is actually what we want to avoid.”

 

“So you _don’t_ want to be normal?” Her words came out slow, careful.

 

She needed them to stop being on different pages, or thinking that they were and then almost messing everything up. Really, _she_ needed to stop psyching herself out and jumping to a completely different page than the one they’d established they were on. 

 

“Fuck no,” was his reply, and then, “do you?”

 

She thought about it. Is that what she wanted? Is that why she’d allowed her friends to talk herself into wanting to have some ridiculous discussion with Murphy? Perhaps a part of her had only done it because she felt like she had to, that there were these relationship ‘to-do’s she had to complete in order for it to be real between them. 

 

It had always been real though, even when she’d been with Shaw, even when she’d denied it. No matter how much she hadn’t wanted it at first, it had always been there between them. Wouldn’t it be wrong to try and change how they were now, just because they weren’t hiding anymore? He seemed to think so, and she knew that he had always been better at this kind of thing. 

 

She shook her head. 

 

“Not a chance. As much as it surprises me I...I don’t give a shit about normal. Not when it comes to us,” and it was the truth.

 

Murphy, however she had him, no matter how strange or far from what she’d expected for herself, was who she wanted. The rest of it...It would work itself out. 

 

He sighed. “I don’t mean to intimidate it out of you though. If you really wanna have The Talk,” he looked a little nauseous at the thought but continued speaking through it, “then we’ll do it, okay? But because _you_ want to, not because our overly-involved friends put the idea in your head.”

 

“It was definitely our friends’ input, but…” She swallowed. “I guess I was a little nervous after they said all this stuff. Like that we weren’t in agreement about what we were to one another, and that until we were things wouldn’t be okay. I know it sounds stupid, but…”

 

“It’s not stupid,” he assured her. “A little self-sabotaging maybe.”

 

She scoffed.

 

“What? I can’t be the only one that thrives off my ability to ruin a good thing once I get it. It’s what makes this thing work, really. That way, we both know when the other is pulling some major bullshit. We’re both ready to call the other out, at all times,” he shrugged, “besides, if you didn’t, then I probably wouldn’t like you half as much.”

 

“And the other half?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking, her tone playful, the atmosphere between them considerably lighter. 

 

 “Well, your hair smells nice, and your ass isn’t half bad.”

 

She choked out a laugh. “You’re such a dick.”

 

“Please, like you don’t only want me for my body,” he responded. 

 

“Maybe like half your body, half your personality,” she allowed. “I’ve got a lot more substance than you, and you know it.”

 

He grinned, and she returned it. 

 

“Well, I guess I can’t argue with that logic.”

 

They started to walk down her street again, and while she had never been one to crave quiet (except when she was working) it felt nice, that the city had gone seemingly silent while they spoke. It seemed that while neither one of them wanted to have The Talk, they did end up having some kind of discussion. Though one that made her much less likely to barf from smarminess. 

 

“You shouldn’t even try,” she shot back, bumping her shoulder against him.

 

“I do know better than to go against you,” he said, removing his hand from hers so he could wrap an arm around her.

 

She leaned into the touch. He was warm, and not just in the physical kind of way. 

 

“As long as you know.” 

 

“Raven,” he breathed out, “you’re it for me, I just...I still wanna be us, but also...I think you’ve kind of ruined love for me, in the best way.”

 

She swallowed thickly. “Yeah, you’re it for me, too,” then, “and of course I ruined love for you, I mean, I’m a beautiful genius, after all, if I didn’t, I’d think you were crazy,” and she felt his chest shift as he laughed.

 

This time, she laughed too. 

* * *

Bellamy prided himself on taking a full thirty seconds to reply to Clarke’s question. Not because he didn’t want to immediately say it, but rather to make sure that this was really what she wanted. They’d been playing around a bit, using a lot of ‘if’s and he wanted her to know she could still back out of the whole thing if she wanted. 

 

“Just to clarify things,” he said, his words soft, “did you mean that? Or are we still doing that ‘if’ thing?”

 

She looked up at him through her lashes and gave him this smile that melted any kind of resolve.

 

“I might’ve meant it, just a little.”

 

“A little?” He asked, teasing. 

 

“Yeah, well, you haven’t replied so…”

 

He got out an overly-excited, “yes, fuck, yes, Clarke. Of course.”

 

And then he practically drowned in her kiss. 

 

There was a lot they’d been holding back, and it all came rushing forward as they allowed themselves to touch one another after so much restraint. He had been surprised at his ability to have control over the last couple of weeks, but it all crumbled as she deepened their kiss. She pulled him closer by gripping onto his shoulders, and he went easily into her embrace. 

 

He was still in shock, yes, but he also knew just how both of them wanted to celebrate their engagement. God, he was gonna marry _Clarke_. He was so fucking amazed by the thought it shook him. 

 

One of his hands had still been toying with her hair, and he pulled on it a little, experimentally. She moaned into his mouth, so he did it again. 

 

Trailing his open mouth down her throat, his hands drifting to her breasts to knead the soft skin there. He loved the little gasps she made, light and barely there but somehow the loudest thing he’d ever heard. They were so _her_ that he didn’t know how to describe it, just that he craved more and got a thrill from them, they happened because of him, because of what he was doing to her. 

 

When the angle felt off as his mouth reached her breasts, he slid to his knees. She shed herself of her top and he took one of her nipples in between his teeth through the flimsy material of her bra. Her hands went to her jeans, undoing the button and dragging them down. He helped her get them off the rest of the way, tossing them into the corner of the kitchen. 

 

He pressed his mouth against the lacey fabric, and she gasped, gripping onto his scalp and the counter for support. Grinning a little, he ran one of his hands up her thigh and broke the contact with his mouth to tease at her entrance, still through the fabric. 

 

“Stop. Playing,” she panted out. 

 

He leaned away, and she whined. 

 

“Why should I?” He asked. 

 

“Because I need you to,” she replied. 

 

He shook his head and trailed his fingers along the waistband of her panties, sliding in two fingers to toy with her entrance. 

 

“Tell me.”

 

“Please,” she choked out, “please, Bellamy.”

 

It was the sound of her begging with his name of her lips that made him do it. 

 

Slowly, so as to run his hands over as much of her skin as he could manage, he tugged her panties down and off, flinging them in the direction of her jeans. 

 

Hooking his hands underneath the backs of her knees he dragged her forward to the edge of the counter, earning a squeak of protest that died in her throat as he pressed his mouth to her inner thigh. 

 

He left a trail of small nips and kisses along as his mouth made its way to where he could practically feel how much she was already aching for him. She trembled a little as he spread her legs apart, he hoped with some combination of want and anticipation. It was how he felt, at least. 

 

After so long of knowing what she tasted like, what she felt like, and not having her, he wanted all of her, everywhere, all at once. He’d take his time though, and make her work for it, if only because if their only other night together was any indicator of it, she liked it. And hell, so did he. 

 

He began to work her with his fingers and she positioned herself so he could get the angle just right. He flicked her clit and she stuttered out a broken moan and bit down on her lip. 

 

“Don’t be quiet. Let me hear those pretty sounds you can make,” he told, and she let out a shaky breath and her eyes drifted down to look at him.

 

“Is that a command?” She asked, a little breathless. 

 

He tilted his head, “do you want it to be?”

 

She flushed but nodded deliberately. The sight went straight to dick. 

 

Something dark and dangerous shone in her eyes, “do you like being in control, Bellamy?”

 

He was pretty sure he actually growled before he licked into her. 

 

“Fuck,” she sighed and he moaned deep in the back of his throat. 

 

“You’re so good,” he told her in between the strokes he made with his tongue against her. “So wet for me. You get all worked up just for me?”

 

“Yes,” she managed, breathing heavy, “god, it’s all for you.” 

 

Then she made this whine that drove him crazy. Needing to hear it again, he gave her a particularly rough swirl that he hoped would work. It did, thank fuck. 

 

As he worked her, she tried to deepen the swipes he made against her pussy, thrusting her hips a little, but he reached up and pinned her in place with one of her arms. He intended to make this last and wouldn’t have her go and try to rush through things. 

 

He added a finger, teasing her at first, and then sliding in and out as he licked at her clit, teasing the nerves there. 

 

“I’m not trying to rush you, I promise, I swear, I...Fuck, Bellamy, right  _there_ ,” she got out as he curled the finger inside her. 

 

Evidently, he’d said the last part out loud, but he couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered by it. Not when she seemed to like surrendering herself to his demands. 

 

He added another finger, working her with both of them and then scissoring them inside her. Slowly, he built her up, felt her clenching down as she careened towards her high, but before she reached it, he soothed her back down. Then he started her right back up again. All the while she made the most fantastic noises he had ever heard, soft moans that told him when to search for that spot she craved, and whines in the back of her throat that encouraged him when he hit it. 

 

“I can take another,” she panted.

 

“And why should I give it to you?” 

 

“It’ll fill me up so good,” she said, “make me feel so good. Please, give it to me.”

 

He obliged her and pumped the fingers slowly as she adjusted to the fit. 

 

“Just like that,” he practically cooed, “god, you take my fingers so well. You’re so good, Clarke.” 

 

She moaned and he smirked as he returned his mouth to her hot cunt. 

 

“You like it when I say how good you are, don’t you?”

 

“Yes,” she swallowed, “fuck, yes, Bellamy. I really do.”

 

 _What had he ever done to deserve her?_ He knew that he could’ve spent lifetimes questioning that and never find an answer. 

 

“I can tell, fuck,” he sucked down on her clit and she cried out, but he took the pressure away before she could go over the edge. 

 

“Let me come,” she pleaded, “I’ll come so good for you, I promise. Let me come for you, baby.”

 

The word ‘baby’ made something he’d never felt before come over him. A wild mix of love and longing. It made his heart ache and his dick twitch and maybe just a bit of possessiveness spurn deep in his stomach. It made him curl his fingers tight inside her, and flick his tongue against the bed of nerves. 

 

She stuttered through her orgasm, panting out praises and god, he was pretty sure she threw a ‘thank you’ in there but he couldn’t be sure because he wanted to carry her through it as best he could. She was sort of giggling as she came down from her high but was so breathless she couldn’t quite manage it completely. 

 

He wiped his mouth on the back of his and stood up, but he didn’t get very far because she pulled him in by his shirt for a searing kiss. 

 

“You’re way too good at that,” she told him.

 

He chuckled. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

 

“Trust me, it is.”

 

Well, he wasn’t going to argue with her, not when he was just beginning to realize how much he was aching to be inside her. 

 

He positioned himself between her legs but barely got a few heated kisses in, their tongues swiping at one another with the promise of what he’d just done between her legs, before she placed her hand on his chest and lightly pushed him away. 

 

“What–”

 

But before he could get the full thought out, she had sunk onto her knees and started working his belt. 

 

It took him a second to regain his composure just from the sight of her like that before him alone. 

 

“Clarke you don’t have to,” he said. 

 

As much as he wanted her mouth on him, he didn’t want her to do it because she felt like she was obligated, just because he had gone down on her. 

 

“I know,” she looked up at him through her lashes, “I want to.” 

 

God, she was going to be the death of him. 

 

“Besides,” she added, a little more shyly this time, “I think I should be able to give my future husband a blow job without him feeling like its only because I feel like I have to.”

 

He was pretty sure he blacked out at the words ‘future husband,’ as embarrassing as it was, it affected him far more than the possibility of him getting his dick sucked. The idea that it was real. He had never thought he’d get here, to the point where she trusted him again, enough to allow such a permanent oath to love one another like that. It was this wonderful, crazy, unbelievable thing they’d decided to do. He knew it made sense, even if everyone else might think they’d lost it. He didn’t care. As long as he had Clarke doing it with him, that was all that mattered. 

 

She made quick work of his belt and then his work slacks, dragging them out of the way along with his boxer briefs. 

 

Biting her lip as his cock sprang free, she swept her thumb against the head of his cock, wiping away a bit of precum from the tip. Eyes locked with his, she grinned wickedly and sucked on her thumb, just for a second. 

 

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?” He asked, surprised he could actually put out a coherent sentence given his current position. 

 

“Just getting started,” she assured him, and thus, probably his destruction at her very capable hands and mouth. 

 

He watched with hooded eyes as she worked some saliva onto her tongue. 

 

“I’ll go easy on you,” she said. 

 

Which was why he almost choked on a moan when she licked up his length and took him in her mouth as deep as she could. 

 

“Fuck,” was really the one thing he could think, the only word that he had left in his vocabulary now he had Clarke’s soft lips around his cock. 

 

She, “mmm-hmm” ’d against him, which made the sensation all the better. Bobbing her head as she took him even deeper, she swirled her tongue along the side of him, tracing patterns with it that had him seeing stars. 

 

Both of his hands gripped the counter, but she moved one of her own to grab one of his and place it at the back of her head. Without putting pressure on her to go deeper, he tangled his fingers in her hair. She must’ve enjoyed the contact though because she went to take even more of him. 

 

When she couldn’t manage anymore, she slid her hand along the remaining length of him, smooth strokes that built him up towards one hell of an endgame. Occasionally, she’d give a tug, and he’d jerk a little or let out a mess of curses telling her how amazing she was or how un-fucking-believable she was at this. 

 

The words came back to him, but only really in a smattering of nonsense. A mix of, “you feel so good, Clarke, Jesus, I didn’t know it was possible to feel this good,” and “fucking hell you use that mouth of yours so well,” and “like that, fuck...fuck, Clarke, yeah, baby, just like that.”

 

He warned her before he came, but she insisted on swallowing. A part of him thought he should argue, but the guy part definitely won out in the end. Just the sight of her licking at the tip of him and wetting her lips as she took as much of him as she could once more nearly made him pass out. But it was nothing compared to watching as she took him over the edge on her knees, reaching behind her to have him put a tighter grip in her hair. 

 

He knew, no matter how much he was allowed to have of Clarke, it would never be enough.

 

They made out for a while after that, lying curled up on the cool tile floor, he brought her even closer and kissed her forehead. For a moment, it was just the sound of their breathing and the feel of her chest rising and falling against his. He wanted to soak up this moment forever, wanted to bottle it for the bad days they would have in their life together, to remind himself of how incredibly happy this woman made him. His thoughts were swirling around what that life would be like when she interrupted them. 

 

By  _laughing._ Seemingly, with no end. 

 

“It’s not you,” she waved a hand, still laughing, “it’s...God, Murphy is gonna _die_ when he finds out.”

 

“That we’re engaged?” He shook his head and started laughing a little, too, “I wasn’t supposed to ask for his permission, was I?”

 

“Oh, no, he won’t really care about that,” she said, and he frowned. “I mean, he’ll tell us we’re crazy but he thinks it’s right because he knows I am,” she was a little smug about it, and he loved it, “I’m talking about the fact that we just fucked in his safe space, his retreat from the world, his home.”

 

He was still confused, and asked, “he’ll be upset we had sex in the house you share?”

 

She snorted. “Not the house. The _kitchen_.”

 

“Okay, so we’ll just not tell him,” he said.

 

She traced the freckles on his cheek with her finger. 

 

“It’s adorable that you think he won’t immediately think something is wrong the next time he steps in here.”

 

“Okay, so—” and then he noticed she was touching her nose. 

 

“Sorry,” she looked as if she was about to tell him his hamster had died while he’d been at summer camp. 

 

“For what?” He scoffed.

 

“I’m touching my nose, which means I get to tell Murphy about the engagement. But _you_ have to tell him about the kitchen.”

 

He began shaking his head, protesting it immediately. “No way, Clarke. He could kill me.”

 

“Well,” she continued, “then it’s been really fun.”

 

He choked out a laugh. 

 

“Look,” she pouted a little and he should’ve known then it was all over for him, “please, will you tell him so your amazing, sexy, talented fiancé doesn’t get into a fight with her roommate? Please?” She batted her eyelashes a little, which was a bit dramatic considering he knew she knew she already had him. 

 

He grumbled out, “fine. But you’re lucky I love you.”

 

“Yeah, I’m really fucking lucky.” She grinned. “We both are, and we’re gonna be for a really long time, I promise.”

 

There was no possible argument he could even fathom to have against that. 

 

“Me, too,” he said and brought her in for a kiss, one that felt like the best kind of promises: between soulmates. 

* * *

It ended with Bellamy getting engaged. 

 

(But if you asked Murphy and Raven or Bellamy and Clarke, it was just the beginning) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information or just to have a chat


	27. Ringing Joyful and Triumphant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, we've made it to the epilogue, my loves!! this features bellamy and clarke's wedding, and I couldn't resist throwing in one more surprise too that I hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> I am so amazed by all of you for investing your time and energy into reading my story, something that I didn't know if anyone would like. this has been such an unforgettable experience and one that I didn't expect when I started writing this story. I never imagined it would take off like it has, or that I would have such thoughtful, passionate, and helpful readers. you have made this story, and me, better for it, and that is a wonderful thing I am so grateful for. this has truly been an unforgettable and incredible journey that I will always cherish. 
> 
> you've all given me such a wonderful gift by being my readers, and while I know it will never be enough: thank you.

_Ten Months Later_

 

The wedding was in the Fall after the proposal that “rocked Arkadia’s socks off,” in the words of Jasper. 

 

Clarke wore a dress from a high-end thrift store (selected by Octavia), and Bellamy wore a suit he usually used for work (selected by Octavia). Abby was not invited, which had been her decision. Bellamy’d assured her that whatever would make her happy, he wanted, too. It _was_ what made her happy. She’d send them a card and a check or something for their new place from her immaculate condo in Florida. It was better that way. 

 

She’d asked Murphy to be her _man_ of honor, to which he’d thrown back his head and laughed and replied, “of fucking course, can’t wait to help you speed away in the getaway car.” 

 

She’d punched him in the shoulder and told him, “like hell.”

 

To which he’d just nodded.

 

“I know. If there’s anyone serious about committing themselves to the insane institution that is marriage, it’s you and Bellamy.”

 

It worked out too since Bellamy wanted Raven as his best woman. 

 

There was very little fanfare or extravagance, though Kane had offered to shell out the cash if that was what Clarke wanted. They weren’t “big wedding” kind of people, though. 

 

So, they got married at the city’s botanical garden and the ceremony was brief, they wanted a longer reception anyways. Their vows were the most important part, written by each of them and the main part of the ceremony. The words were everything they’d already told one another, all the promises and declarations of love. They were just now in front of all their friends instead of whispered in the darkness of her bedroom. 

 

Jasper practically wept through the entire thing, Maya holding his hand affectionately. Octavia grinned from her place next to Raven by Bellamy’s side. Clarke was pretty sure she spotted Raven wink at Murphy in the middle of the ceremony, and although he’d never admit it, Harper told everyone their vows had made even Murphy produce a tear or two. 

 

He was promised that he was going to be teased about that for years to come, but he just told them, “bring it on.”

 

The reception was when things got interesting. Or, depending on who you asked, was when things almost fell apart completely. 

 

Their friends were giving speeches, informal ones that brought up embarrassing stories from college and reminisced about their early twenties. All while they ate the best from all their favorite take out places. It wasn’t exactly the event of the year, they probably wouldn’t even make the wedding announcements in one of the local papers, but she and Bellamy had decided that if it was, then it wouldn’t be them. 

 

Then, Murphy stood up from his place next to Raven, and Clarke beamed at him. It had been a long journey to get where they were, one she didn’t know how would end when she started it, but she was so, so glad where it had. 

 

“So,” he stated, “I’m sure I’ll be putting the rest of your speeches to shame,” which made everyone laugh. “Well, it’s no surprise we’re here. We called it...What? Three days into their meeting? I think that’s when Bellamy’s crush started, but it took him until he taught Clarke to shoot a paintball gun for him to realize it.” 

 

At that, Clarke flushed a little and Bellamy ducked his head, but their hands remained clasped on top of the table. 

 

“Honestly, though, I think as insane as it’s all been, I think a part of me knew, even through all of the bullshit, that this would always happen. If there was anyone that could go through what they did and come out the other side married, it’s these two. I mean, maybe not so soon, but Clarke is impatient as hell.”

 

She laughed at that, unable to keep the grin off her face. He did have a point, too. 

 

“But Bellamy, I swear, I will find you and I will kill you if you mess with her,” and while he was quoting a Liam Neeson movie, she got the sense that he was serious. “And don’t go pulling that shit again in Clarke’s bedroom. Unless it’s you know, the two of you,” and he actually _winked,_ to her horror and delight. 

 

He looked at her, and she felt such a warmth for her friend, gratitude that they had been through a hell of a year together, and now, months later, it was all turning out better than she could’ve ever imagined. 

 

“And Clarke, you’re probably my best friend, and hell, I better be yours since I am the Man of Honor.”

 

She rolled her eyes at that but nodded eventually. 

 

“But you deserve all the fucking happiness you can manage, which I know you’re not used to, but don’t even bother trying to convince yourself that you don’t because I’ll be right there letting you know what a dumbass you’re being. I want you so ridiculously overjoyed with your life that I can’t stand to be around you. And, as much as it ruins my cold, dead heart to say it: I’m betting on the fact that you have.”

 

“So,” and he raised his glass of champagne to them, “congrats you guys, try not to fuck it all up.”

 

And then, because he was still _Murphy_ , after all, he let it all slip out of his control, laughing as he got out one last zinger that he would later tell her was completely on accident. 

 

“I mean, who the hell knew this would all happen because Clarke and I decided sleeping together would be the best solution to being pathetic messes about Bellamy and Raven.”

 

Clarke was in shock for several minutes, trying to register what he’d just admitted. At her _wedding,_ no less. She was at a loss for words, and so was everyone else there, Murphy included. 

 

“Oh, fuck,” he said after a full minute had passed.

 

She was horrified. _What would Bellamy_ think? She turned to him and rushed out a mess of words, most of which didn’t make any sense given how fast she was speaking. 

 

“I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you the night we got engaged, but then when I tried, you said you didn’t care about what happened between me and Murphy, as long as I was sure about you, and...I didn’t have the heart to ruin it and then I got scared and...I’m so sorry.”

 

It seemed Murphy had a similar experience because he dropped into his chair and told Raven all in one breath, “I’m so sorry, babe. Really, I didn’t want you to find out like that. I had plans to tell you in a very fun and upbeat kind of way, preferably after I’d just given you the best orgasm of your life, but...Fuck, did I mess it up?”

 

For one terrible moment, neither Bellamy nor Raven said anything. They were still in shock, she thought, but surely, they had something to say? It was dead quiet, the only sounds were the crickets from outside. 

 

She knew whatever it was, whether he freaked out or distrusted her for a bit or anything else they’d face, they would do it as man and wife. Even though she was scared of what his reaction would be as he worked on forming one, she was sure that they would get through it. They were in it together, and she couldn’t imagine any other possibility. 

 

“You slept with Murphy because you had feelings for me?” He asked.

 

She nodded.

 

“And you slept with Clarke because of me?” Raven questioned Murphy.

 

He took a second, but he nodded, too. It was better to be completely honest, now that the whole truth of it was out. 

 

Raven and Bellamy looked at one another. She tilted her head to the side and he shook his head, but she could see the beginning of a grin on his face. She had no idea why. 

 

It was Raven who broke first. 

 

“Dude! You’re so fucking stupid. It’s gonna take a lot more than that to drive me away,” and then she kissed Murphy. 

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy said, laughing a little, “it’s okay. You do remember we’re married now, right? I think I can handle you having feelings for me before we got together.”

 

She felt her entire body relax at that.

 

“You’re not mad?” She asked.

 

“Not in the slightest,” he told her. 

 

She sighed, wanted to say something more but then Raven and Bellamy glanced at one another again. He snorted. She snickered. 

 

“You think it’s _funny_?” Murphy furrowed his brows.

 

“Well…” Bellamy started. 

 

“Yep,” Raven finished. 

 

She blinked in confusion. “Why? We lied about how we got together...Doesn’t it...Bother you? If only a little bit? I mean,” she started to ramble, “we deceived you all!”

 

Her friends looked at her as if she’d gone a little bit nuts, and she wondered if her inner Bridezilla had kicked in too late. 

 

Raven giggled. “No worries about the deception,” she said, linking her hand with Murphy’s to let him know she truly wasn’t upset. 

 

“Really, Clarke,” Bellamy reassured her, “it is kind of funny.”

 

The more she thought about it, the more she realized they had a point. It was so ridiculous, how everything had happened, how they had gotten to this place. She started to chuckle too, and then Murphy joined in. 

 

“Okay, okay,” she admitted, “you might be a little right.”

 

“No ‘might be’ about it. We know we are,” came from Raven. 

 

“God,” Miller spoke up, “you guys have more drama than a fucking telenovela. I swear, there’s less confusion and mix-ups on _Riverdale._ ”

 

“Don’t get upset just because you’re not liking season four as much,” Jackson couldn’t help but tease. 

 

“They’re completely messing with the core four!” 

 

That made _everyone_ start laughing. 

 

God, she thought, _idiots,_ the lot of them. 

 

All things considered though, it had worked out pretty okay. 

 

After there had been a lot of dancing, most of it embarrassing, and slightly dangerous on Jasper and Emori’s part (they really  _had_ bonded in Mexico), the four of them were sitting around, imagining what their lives would be like in ten years.

 

“God, I hope you’re not bored of me,” Raven said, “I might have to install a stripper pole in our place to keep you interested.”

 

“We could always go for a foursome,” he responded, chuckling a bit when Raven swatted at him.

 

“Foursome would be fun!” Clarke jumped in. 

 

“Hell no,” Raven cut in, “sorry, but you got all you’re ever gonna get out of this one.” She draped an arm around Murphy’s shoulders.

 

“Yeah…” Bellamy trailed off, “I think we’ve also established I’m definitely the jealous type.”

 

“Just a little,” Murphy nodded. 

 

“Fine,” Clarke allowed, “no foursome.”

 

“I think we all got a pretty good deal out of it though,” Bellamy inclined his head towards Murphy and then Clarke. “Even without the group sex.”

 

“Yeah,” Raven agreed, “one hell of a deal.”

 

Clarke and Murphy looked at one another and returned one another’s smirks. 

 

“What can we say,” he said.

 

“We’re just that good.”

 

“Everybody get in close! Picture!” Octavia called as she ran over to them, whipping out her phone. 

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes, but he complied. Clarke felt the same, it was their wedding, they wanted to be able to look back and feel the exact brand of happiness and elation they had at that moment. 

 

“Everybody say foursome!” She shouted. 

 

They all burst into exaggerated poses. She was halfway in Murphy’s lap and still holding Bellamy’s hand, who couldn’t stop laughing while Raven did jazz hands and stuck out her non-braced leg at the same time Murphy flipped off Octavia. 

 

It was the best picture they had at the wedding. Hands down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> lots of love
> 
> check out my [writing tumblr](https://animmortalist.tumblr.com/) for updates/more information on my other fics or just to have a chat


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